Unwilling
by DoMaBaMiLaHayffie
Summary: Imagine that Effie, 2 years after the end of the Rebellion, who's become a paper-worker and reporter by now, asks Plutarch if she could visit the Districts (from 1 to 12) and after she's visited the other 11 Districts, she comes over District Twelve too. There, of course, she comes over Haymitch's house and stays for a month. What happens next? Check out! [Hayffie]
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

The beautiful sound of the same song sung by a little bird started the day in District Twelve. From some of the houses you could already hear the noise of people awaking and beginning to rush things in, before going out to work. By 6 a.m. from almost every house you could hear men showering while their wives were preparing them breakfast.

Someone from the outside would admire such synchronization, not only between husband and wife, but also all those men of the District; someone from the Village of the Victors, like Haymitch Abernathy, would call it robotic, mindless, thoughtless.

But someone like Haymitch Abernathy would be lonely, full of nightmares of people belonging to the past, not to the beautiful and hopeful future.

Differently than the barbaric, drunk victor, people were building their future, the life they could have as the time would pass by and actually, after almost three years from the end of the war they were having some success. They all had already made progress in rebuilding houses and, most important of all, the only hospital in District Twelve.

Apparently, Haymitch didn't care about them all; he only thought of his own life which basically, in the moment, was alcohol, to drown the ghosts of the past in the night, and geese, to occupy himself with something during the day. And, in Katniss' opinion, those geese were diabolic, rude and noisy, but it looked like the old drunkard cared about them. He didn't mind being the rude, dirty, old rebel of the village. He was not like Peeta or Katniss that, after they got along, they married and lightly, slowly hided the scars of the past, truly believing that the future would bring the best; he didn't believe in a future nor he wanted a woman to run around his house to tell him what to do and what not to do. He wanted his peaceful, drunk life which would and should not be disturbed. Or at least he thought so.

Unfortunately, for his sake, someone else didn't.

The rhythmic knocking on his door woke him up from his new nightmare. He sat on the edge of the bed, but he realized soon it wasn't the best idea, as his hangover made him fall on the sheets again. But the knocking didn't stop and he understood that the only way to make it stop, was to stand up and see who it was.

"I'm coming..." he muttered, trying to get on his feet, feeling the headache go through his mind and he was sure that, no matter who it was, he would punch the person standing in front of the door, still knocking as it was some kind of a machine, not a real, living person.

When he was already down, that his loud steps could be already heard outside of the door, the knocking became stronger, as if to rush him up. Haymitch was not used to it; Peeta and Katniss had the keys of his house if they needed him and for what he could remember, he hasn't had any other visitors since the war was over. He shook his head, regretting it the exact moment he did it, and he stood in front of the door. He took a sharp and loud breath, before he finally opened the door.

"Finally!" exclaimed a familiar voice, but looking at the person standing in front of him, he could not recognize her. It was a beautiful, breathtaking woman with blonde hair and blue, icy eyes. She stared at him raising an eyebrow, as she couldn't understand why would he look at her in such a shocked way. He noticed there was something familiar in her, something in the way she put her hands on her hips, the way she curled her lips and she raised her eyebrows . She looked way too familiar, but he couldn't relocate such woman in his memory. "Are you going to look at me as you wanted to eat me or you're going to let me in?" she asked, her voice so high, at least six times higher than any woman from District Twelve and Haymitch thought she might be from the Capitol; yet he couldn't remember any Capitol friend, outside of Plutarch, Fulvia and... _Effie Trinket!_ "Sure, you never were the kind of a man that would let any person come in – ", she started babbling and he realized now he knew that woman.

"Trinket?!" he shouted, shocked. He has known that woman for years, he has worked as a mentor with her on his side as an escort for almost ten years, yet he didn't recognize her. Now, looking at her better and with some kind of other eyes, he realized that she really looked, somehow, like the escort he knew. She was different, sure, but she still had the same nose and the same eyes and Haymitch insulted himself in his mind for thinking of her as beautiful. He could not think of her as beautiful and if he had known from the very first moment he saw her it was really Effie Trinket, he would not have thought that.

"Oh, don't look at me as if you've seen a ghost!" rated him Effie, lightly smirking, when she noticed he was embarrassed. She could swear that he was and she noted in her mind to keep that moment in her memory. "Now, will you let me come in, or I am supposed to stay here, in the cold, because you haven't enough manners to invite me in?"

He shook his head, his right hand on the door, his fingers tapping on the wood, but no word did come out of his lips: no inviting, no telling her not to come in, either. She raised her eyebrows waiting for an answer and for the second time in that ten-fifteen minutes, he noticed how much she still looked like the old Effie, even if she didn't wear those weird wigs, that amount of make-up as she did before.

"So?" she asked, irritated. She was willing for an answer, but he looked like he didn't want to give her one, only to freak her out; someone from the outside would also admit that if that was his intention, he was doing a very good job.

"Let me tell you one thing, sweetheart. I didn't tell you to knock on my door and wait for me to let you come in in the first place, so what makes you so sure I will ever let you come in?" he grinned, feeling her gaze on him, but he averted it, knowing well that he hasn't crossed the line yet and she wasn't even that angry. So he continued, "I don't know if you have noticed, but it's been already... How many years has it been since the end of the war?"

"Almost three, Haymitch", she gritted, her voice at least four times less high than usual.

"That's right! Three years... So, as you said, it's been almost three years since the end of the war- " he looked at her for a while, controlling if she was listening to him and if she was angry and when he noticed she was, he continued, "So it's also been at least three years since the last time we've talked and if I am not wrong, you weren't really willing to talk to me; after all, I saved you from prison, but you thought I was the reason you were the- ". It was rapid, the slap he got on his face and he could still feel on his cheek hurt, even after the palm of her little hand was already again on her hips.

"_Enough!_ Before you ask the right question, I tell you: I'm here because Plutarch sent me, but as I can see, it would have been better if he sent me to another house. I'm not useful here, not if I'll have to deal with you for at least one month!" she yelled, her hands closing in fists, still laid on her hips, her eyebrows wrinkling dangerously. She looked very dangerous in the moment and Haymitch knew he has overstepped the line. He has freaked her out in about twenty minutes and he wasn't quite sure what to do. He had not really meant to insult her; he just wanted to point her out that after all that time of not talking, after years of working aside arguing all the time, she was not welcome in his house and he would not let her come in. At least not before he would know what would bring her there in the first place. "Now, may I come in? I'm not happy as much as you are for having to stay here for at least one month, so do not think I want to be here. Just let me in, let me tell you what Plutarch told me to tell you, let me do my job here and then I'll just leave and you'll be back in your normal, drunk life. I stay here for a month without disturbing you and then I go back to the Capitol, and you'll pretend I've never been here. Do we have a deal?" she asked, biting her lower lip, angry but less than a minute earlier.

"Alright, deal." Haymitch grinned, making a step on the right, letting her come in. "Just one thing: I don't have coffee here, nor I have nothing to eat, so you'll probably have to- ".

She stopped him, walking past him and showing him the bags to carry, "I know the way you live here. I've been here once each year to deal with you for at least two weeks, there's no need to tell me stuff like that."

"I see, sweetheart, you hadn't changed a bit from the last time we've... truly spoken", he noticed and it didn't pass unnoticed by him the way she looked at him, the way she curled her lips and bit her inner cheek. He looked at her, waiting for an answer, but she averted his gaze, trying to concentrate on the document she was holding.

"The last time we've truly spoken was the day when you decided to go to District Thirteen leaving me to my own path. Yeah, well, I was really, really, the same way I am now." she said calmly, but very dangerously.

"Well, aren't you, princess?" demanded Haymitch, playfully. She crossed her arms, up to say something as sarcastic as his comment, but he stopped her, raising a hand. "I'm just kidding around, sweetheart. You look different, but from the way you act you are the same. The only thing that has changed is your look. You look better without all that make-up and those stupid-" he gestured with his hand around his head, "-wigs. But I guess you still have those funny schedules and you're still wearing those killer heels with which you could stab someone..."

"You're wrong. I have changed a lot and still, even if I haven't, it's not your place to say that. You're no psychiatrist." She noted, turning around to show him her bags, "Take them to the guest room, please, and... Do you still have your kind of office?". He nodded, muttering to himself about her being always the same and taking her bags. "Great then! After you're done, we can talk about what Plutarch told me. We don't want to waste time, now do we?" she moved forward the stairs and then she turned to him as if she remembered something, "Oh, and I noticed your geese. I see there is something you care about... Your days weren't enough busy that you needed them, huh?". The moment her words were spoken and she turned to the stairs again, going up, Haymitch realized that she really was not the same. Effie Trinket has changed and it was quite a surprise to the old man.

"She's been here only half an hour, bossing around and I already am tired of her", he muttered, taking one of her bags and going up the stairs to reach the guests room.

XxX

After he was already done with taking her bags to the guests room and she was done with her own stuff, they sat in the sitting room, waiting for each one of them to start a conversation. Haymitch was not good in small talks and Effie was not really up to one, so they both sat quiet, awaiting.

Outside the weather has become quite wet, as they heard the rain clapping on the windows. Haymitch knew it meant Autumn was coming and with it the cold and people who worked down at the Seam would have to work in the rain. He didn't care much; he had enough money to live the way he did, so he did not need to work. He could hear his geese complaining about the weather because, no matter if they had their pen or not, they still felt the cold and the wetness.

He tapped his fingers on his thigh, thoughtful. He stood up, ignoring Effie and he went to the kitchen to take himself a bottle of whiskey; he didn't care to ask Effie if she wanted some wine, it was not in his normal attitude to do so and he decided to follow his normal one. Once he took the bottle, he untapped it and took a long, noisy and loud sip, turning to the sitting room, still with the bottle of whiskey in his hand.

The one to break the silence was Effie, who decided to speak once Haymitch returned to his sit and he comfortably threw himself on it, not paying much attention on how to do it properly.

"I mentioned you earlier that Plutarch sent me here and it's now, probably, my place to tell you what for", she started, her arms crossed under her breasts, her breath irregular, her eyes on her thighs and her eyebrows wrinkled, preoccupied. "So... I'm here, because", she unwillingly bit her lower lip and before she could add anything else, she just showed him the document she's been holding earlier. "Just read it!"

"Can't you just tell me, throw it off and then let me check on the geese and drink on my own?" he asked, not really willing to read all those papers.

"I can" she murmured, averting his gaze. She let out a breath and she reached out for his whiskey. Haymitch raised an eyebrow, but he handed her the bottle, which she took and after a while of staring at the liquid horrified, she sipped it and then shook her head and handed him the bottle again. "Alright!", she said, more certainly. "Ugh, than was terrible, Haymitch", she admitted tasting the taste of whiskey on her tongue again, "But surely strong!".

"Are we going to reach the point or?" noted Haymitch growing increasingly bored since the only thing he was willing to do in the moment was sit on the couch and drink until he would lose his senses.

"Sure we are!" she agreed, glaring at him disappointed. "The point is that Plutarch sent me here to do my usual job, which is a paper work. I checked out already all of the other eleven districts. Each month one district and now I've come to the... Well, not exactly last one. This is the last district I will check, but you don't care about what else I will check so.. Anyway. It's easy: I stay here for a month, I interview every single habitant here, I check if there isn't any trouble around and after a month of being here, I send a report to Plutarch and, in this case, I go straight back to the Capitol", she said. It really was as easy as it sounded, but Haymitch understood perfectly why was she worried and embarrassed to tell him. She was a reporter, and also a paper worker. Effie Trinket, the escort he has known for years, surprised him, becoming such a person. He knew perfectly what were her worries about: she didn't know how people would react at such things.

"And I assume you want to start today", he said, taking a long sip from his bottle of whiskey that was already half empty. She nodded, no word spoken. "Good, is there something I need to know, or I'm allowed to go to drink alone?"

"Actually, there is. As long as I don't disturb you with your drinks, you don't disturb me with my paper work, alright?" he nodded, grinning. "And... well, nothing else, I guess. I better go to see Peeta and Katniss now."

"Peeta and Katniss?" he asked, surprised. Haymitch didn't expect her to go and see them too, but thinking about it, he realized it was the right idea and he was quite sure she didn't want to do it only to interview them.

"Yes. The kids. Not only to interview them, I just want to visit them a bit, it's been so long since the last time I've talked to them in person", she explained, tapping her left index on her left thigh.

"Alright", he muttered. He showed her the stairs and she stood up, giving him a disappointed glare. "Go, take something to write on, probably and just go. I don't want you in my house during the whole day!"

"As you wish", she gritted, moving forward the stairs. She wasn't willing to argue nor to continue their conversation, so she decided to keep her mouth quiet and Haymitch accepted it with a mocking smile. He raised his hand, the one holding the bottle and sneered when she coughed and left him alone in the sitting room.

"Annoying woman" he said to himself, sipping for the last time from the bottle. He realized it was the last sip, only when he tried to sip again and he found, disappointed, nothing in the bottle anymore. He stood up again and he went to the kitchen taking four or five bottles of liquor. That was what he usually did. When he came to the sitting room, he realized he still didn't feed the geese and he shook his head frustrated.

Haymitch was not the kind of man that liked to do any kind of things, but he promised the kids he would do at least one thing in his boring life, that he would care at least about one thing, so he decided to buy those geese.

He told Peeta and Katniss he would take care of two geese, and they looked at him, laughing surprised. "Haymitch Abernathy, when I told you to take care of something, I meant you would go into gardening or even start a job; you surprised me, I must admit!", said Peeta and Haymitch feeling offended left their house, back to his and he drank until he lost consciousness. The next day he was woken up with someone knocking at his door and when he went down, he found two geese in front of his door. This way started his feeding geese that in time became twenty, instead of two, as he once said: "They could be four in one day and the next day already eight and I would not be surprised."

In time he admitted he liked feeding them because he could do something during the day, instead of only drinking; sometimes happened, of course, that he decided to drink and he almost forgot to feed them, but he quickly found out that if he didn't feed them, they still lived.

Today was the exact day in which he didn't really want to feed them, but since he didn't do it the day before either, he thought it would be a shame if one them died because of hunger; and to be totally honest something like that happened in those three years.

When he was already in the pen, Haymitch noticed there was no food to feed the with, so he came back towards his house and he almost clashed with Effie that was just going out of the house.

"Watch where you step, sweetheart", said mockingly Haymitch, grinning. The woman looked at him disappointingly rolling her eyes, her hands on her hips, while her notebook fell to the ground.

"Maybe you- oh, get over it! I was willing to go to see Peeta and Katniss properly and I don't want to argue, so can we just go on our roads, instead of this?" she asked, irritated. He shrugged and nodded, going past her to go into the house. She took her notebook from the ground and moved towards the kids' house.

Haymitch closed the door after him, he went to the kitchen and he looked for some vegetables in the fridge. After years of feeding geese, he knew perfectly what was their favorite food and when he found the lettuce, he took it and he went back to the pen to feed them.

It didn't take him a long time to finish all the feeding, and when he was already done, he went straight to his house, to the sitting room. He sat comfortably on the couch and he started drinking.

It was a good feeling for him, the alcohol burning down his throat, the warm feeling of liquor in his body and he closed the eyes to enjoy the feeling better. He was a drunkard and he liked liquor, even if he knew that whiskey was stronger.

But Haymitch didn't drink only for fun or for the burning feeling of the alcohol in his body; he drank because he needed to swallow and drown the ghosts of his past. He knew that when he would lose his senses, he would not dream, so he would not have nightmares either. Speaking of which, his nightmares were always different, but still similar. In them he always found himself back in the Arena, but instead of the Tributes, there was his family, killed by him.

After years of being a drunk, he knew, also, that drinking would not wipe his pain away. Drinking helped him to forget it for a while, to burn it, but the day after drinking, he would wake up and feel it again. He would drink again; that's what he did during his years of mentoring tributes until Peeta and Katniss came. Now it consisted still in drinking, yes, but only after feeding geese. He didn't mind this life and he found it even amusing. It was an unusual way of living and if he told his twenty-old-self that besides drinking he would also feed geese, he would laugh and not believe until it would actually happen.

Haymitch was not stupid either: he knew that drinking too much would kill him; of course that was his dream when he was younger, but after the end of the war, even if he didn't take full advantage of the end of it, he didn't want to die. He wanted to live, with his nightmares and geese. Stupid idea of life, but truth be told, Haymitch believed, deep down, the kids loved him and he didn't want to leave them alone. But he would never admit that, of course. He was a proud man and stubborn and drinking made him forget even that.

So he drank. He took one sip, then another and another one again; he drank even after his sight became blurred; he drank until he lost his senses and his last thought, even if he didn't realize it was: _A month..._

* * *

><p><strong>Hey everyone!<strong>  
><strong>This is my first story about Hayffie and just the second one in English, so I hope I didn't mess up anything.<strong>  
><strong>I wanted to explain a few things, before I leave you here, so please, pay a bit of attention at what I say: In the FF you will find lesbian sex, violence-mention, rape-kind stuff and death threatens. That's all!<strong>  
><strong>I hope you enjoyed the first chapter and you found the characters at least a bit IC! Love y'all, reviews are love!<strong>  
><strong>Agni x<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Peeta and Katniss lived in the house in front of the Haymitch's so Effie didn't need much time to arrive there.

The Village of the Victors was a lonely place as people declared that they weren't willing to live in such place. The image of the Games was still vivid and they didn't want to spend the rest of their lives in a place that would bring the memory of it anytime they looked around. This let, of course, the ex-victors have the deserved peace, yes, but Peeta wanted some neighbors outside of the old, drunk mentor; Katniss and Haymitch didn't pay much attention to it.

Looking around, chasing some sign of life – because even the rain was already quickly gone away-, Effie gasped and wrote something down on her notebook. She was not used to such loneliness, even though she's been here before the Rebellion, since the Capitol was a way more busy and noisy place. Sure, she hated it there, she even asked Plutarch if she could work in the districts, but still she didn't like such peace. Soon she also discovered that working in the districts was not really the best and cleverest thing to do since for District's people she was still a Capitol citizen, the escort; such an ironic thing as she was a rebel for the Capitol. It overwhelmed her knowing she was not welcome anywhere in Panem. The only friends she had at the moment were Katniss, Peeta, Haymitch, Annie and, if she could be called a friend, Johanna, but it still felt difficult, sad and lonely at the top for Effie. It felt unfair to Effie because she thought that the end of a war, of a Rebellion, would end such discriminations but she soon found out she couldn't have been more wrong.

_Effie Trinket, the rebel at the Capitol; the escort in the Districts_, she thought bitterly, but she suddenly shook her head trying to get such thoughts away from her mind. They upset her and she realized she didn't need that if she wanted to stay here for a month.

She climbed the stairs and she knocked to the door, standing steady.

"Coming!" she heard Katniss shouting and after a while of awaiting, the young woman opened the door. The shock drawing on Katniss' face was visible as she noticed who she was standing in front of. "Effie?"

"I guess it is me, if I haven't changed my name since the last time I saw you, yes" nodded Effie, smiling lightly at her. There was an awkward moment of silence, suddenly broken by Peeta's arrival. The boy was still the same nice and good boy, although the terrible imprisonment, so when he saw Effie (and recognized her), he ran towards her and hugged her tightly.

"Careful, Peeta, my bones might break if you embrace me too tight. I'm not a plush, pay attention at the _manners_", adverted him the ex-escort, but he heard her chuckling lightly, so he didn't pull her away, not yet.

"I might take the risk", he winked. She caressed his back and he finally pulled her away, smiling sincerely. "I haven't seen you in about three years, what on Earth are you doing here?" he asked, letting her in, with Katniss closing the door behind them, not really pleased to be ridden off the conversation.

"I think that might take a bit to explain, so we better come in", she said firmly, suddenly becoming less happy. He couldn't say why would that happen, but he didn't like it when she was like that. He hadn't seen her after the Rebellion, but he's heard of what happened to her, of the fact that she's been in the asylum and he knew she could have sometimes those moments when you could almost lose her. He reached for her hand and he squeezed it, trying to cheer her up. She shook her head and stared at him, suddenly noticing she's been quite off for a while. "I'm sorry", she whispered.

"You're different from the last time I've seen you" noticed Katniss, leaning against the wall. Effie turned to her and smiled warmly, although both the kids knew how much she wanted just to lay down and cry. Years of studying how to mask her emotions showed their importance this time and Effie easily hid hers right in the moment.

"I don't know if I should take that as a compliment or as a bad thing. In doubt, I'd say I take it both ways", she noted, and she laughed, touching her hair. Peeta smiled at her and he showed her the sitting room as he wanted her to go there; she looked at him gratefully and she went there, to sit comfortably.

"She better meant it as a compliment", Peeta whispered to Effie's ear, although he knew Katniss would hear them.

"I didn't really mean it as a compliment. I just noticed she looks different. Her voice is not as high as it-" she didn't end the sentence, as Effie burst into laugh. Katniss looked at her raising an eyebrow, not sure why would Effie do that.

"Haymitch would not agree with you", explained Effie, laughing. It was so out of Effie's character to act this way and for a moment Katniss stared at her blinking, not sure how to act. Peeta broke the silence, saving both skins.

"I go to take you a... tea?" he asked, smiling and the escort nodded, totally cheered up. She was very moony, she could be sad in a moment and then just burst into laugh shocking everyone around, but that was her. At least the doctors told her she became this way after her imprisonment. When she earned that she wasn't even surprised at all. She remembered how in prison, while she was tortured, she would just laugh and cry simultaneously because she could not bear being totally sad. She realized it only now how it might have been shocking for the guards when she would laugh instead of begging them merci. Sure, she begged them, even screamed out of panic for help, told them to stop, but they would not stop; her screams just grew their amusement and they would just continue torturing her, even in a worse way than before, so she just started laughing.

The first time she laughed, it was after over a week of being punched, cut and even raped. It was during a session of cutting her with some kind of lances, that she just laughed. She could remember their faces when instead of crying out loud to stop, as she did the other days, she laughed. _Foolish woman_, were the first words spoken by one of the guards, before he cut her again and she just fell on the ground, laughing herself off. She couldn't remind herself why exactly would she burst out laugh, but there wasn't probably a reason at all. She laughed, because she felt the need to; though she didn't feel better and her stomach just hurt more. But she didn't stop; she would laugh anytime they would punch, cut, rape or even electro-shock her, to remind them that they didn't truly break her and they would never accomplish that.

When she first arrived to District Thirteen and she woke up from her coma, the first thing she did after screaming out loud to free her, was laughing. She scared the doctors with her crystalline laugh, because it was so out of context, but they didn't complain; a laughing woman was better than a crying one. Soon they discovered they weren't really right and when after the Coin's assassination she laughed, instead of crying or being just shocked, they took her to the asylum. She never felt more surrounded than then; people, exactly doctors, would stay with her all the time, trying to talk to her, but she would just laugh. With the time passing by, she understood the reason she was still kept there, was her laugh, so she closed herself in and they thought she was feeling better, so they freed her out. They could have never been more wrong. As she stood out of the asylum and she locked herself in her house, all the people around her lost importance to her and for about two months no one heard from her. That was when Plutarch came into her house and he tried to talk to her. She would blink, stare at him at first, while he would talk to her; she would never answer. After a month of him visiting her, she decided to speak and when she did, her voice didn't sound even hers; her voice was broken, just like her soul. That was when he proposed her a job and she accepted it. She became a paper worker and this job didn't look so bad to her.

The time passed, Effie changed and she started to look like the old Effie, but who lived near to her, knew she wasn't the same; she had her moments when she would just sit, stare at nothing at all really without even blinking, or those ones where she would just burst out laugh and cheer herself up without a real reason. But she was not crazy, nor stupid. That was a sign the war left her. A mark, an indelible mark and she would never get truly rid of it, no matter how much she would try. Those moments weren't as often as they were just after the end of the war and that was something many of the people surrounding her were grateful for; they happened only when someone brought up the war or something upsetting, difficult to Effie. And she just had one.

"Oh, yes, thank you", she said, still smiling. He went to the kitchen and Effie settled on the couch.

XxX

"So, you're telling me that after the—well, you know what... Anyway, you're telling me that after _that_ you visited in one year all of the Districts, you are going to do what?... What about next year?" asked Peeta after they drank their tea. Effie averted his gaze, staring into the empty cup of tea.

"Next year... Plutarch said he has plans for me, but he didn't want to tell me, not yet" she whispered so softly that Peeta and Katniss barely heard her.

Katniss nodded and so did Peeta, as they understood her words. "Do you have any guesses?" The question went out of the blue, and it was Katniss who asked. She checked on Effie afterwards, as she didn't hear Effie even breathing. She opened her mouth again, to repeat the question, assuming Effie didn't hear her; just when she did so, Effie moved and sighed. Gathering her courage, Effie nodded and passed Katniss her notebook, curling her lips.

"My thoughts, just check on them", she said, bitterly. "Maybe you won't find that as dramatic as I do. Though I might like that... exploration! It's just... I'm afraid, you know? It sounds ridiculous saying so, but you never know what the future has in mind for you and if I die during one of those trips, explorations... Well, I will die unhappy! Nothing's more terrible than dying in a foreign place, out of nowhere..." cried Effie, as the emotions went out of her; she started shaking and Peeta reached out for her, hugging her. "It's so stupid... I should be doing that stupid interview to you, not cry over my future missions", she sobbed. "But I had to tell you... Both. Haymitch would laugh at my fears so I won't tell him, although it's just the first day that I am here, so I'll probably tell him later but...", she broke off, letting a loud sob come out of her mouth. Peeta hugged her more tightly and she started relaxing.

Just in the moment, Katniss finished reading and she sighed, cursing herself for letting Effie in. She liked Effie, she was like a kind of an aunt to her, but she was extremely annoying to her and she couldn't stand being interviewed by her; though that was the only thing Effie was supposed to truly do.

"I suppose you're afraid, I'd be afraid, if not even frightened, at the idea of going to check on the countries around Panem that we didn't visit in centuries... Though I think It's something you should do. Who knows? Maybe they're full of people, civilized, people that you will like and one day you'll find your man... Maybe you'll even marry? I mean, I must admit it: when I saw you and Haymitch arguing, I thought that you really looked very well together, but.." Katniss broke off, checking on Effie's reaction, but outside of her paleness, she wasn't really preoccupied about what Katniss said, so she went on, "One day, I suppose, you'll meet someone else and you'll marry, perhaps it'll be the second best but it doesn't mean you can't have a life... Outside of him, of here. I think that it is your chance to totally move on after your- well, you know, it's not a forbidden word... Your _imprisonment_, and I think Peeta might agree with me. You're young, Effie, don't waste your life hoping for something that will not happen, not anytime soon, if not ever."

That hit, hit her hard. She knew exactly what she meant. After she's been released from the asylum, she hoped very deeply that Haymitch would come for her, apologize sincerely and take her to District Twelve, so she would stay away from the ghosts of her past. She was locked in herself by then, but she thought and her thoughts were always back to her imprisonment; sometimes anyway she thought about Haymitch, begging him to come, sighing, crying and cursing him for having abandoned her. All she wanted by then was to have him apologize her, but since it never happened, she just lived in her false hope. For three months she went on like this; even when Plutarch started visiting her at the second month, she still just sat there, quiet. After three months, she realized she was being not nice to Plutarch, so she spoke. It was really nothing, but she felt like she missed her voice, her old voice, since as she spoke her voice was changed, probably because of months without talking at all. And even then, when she spoke, she thought that maybe, for some stupid reason, Haymitch would come for her. She hoped, hoped hard and when she asked Plutarch if she could do a kind of a tour around the twelve Districts, excluding District Thirteen and do some interviews to see how's going on there and he accepted, she felt overjoyed. She couldn't believe she had a chance to see Haymitch and she sincerely hoped that when she would see him again, he would apologize. She had been wrong and she realized it the moment he opened the door and stared at her as if he didn't recognize her at first. He was a rude man and Effie knew he didn't think he owed her any apologize and she considered many times giving up. Though she never did.

She stared at the window, shaking her head and burying it into her hands, as she started crying once again. "I just _want_ to believe in it. I know it's not possible... I know he will never apologize nor even ask me to stay here, but I just hope so. It's been so many years that we've worked together..." she shook her head again, wiping her tears away, and sniffling, before breathing heavily and chilling down. "But it's stupid, again, to think such things! Now, we better start the interview, so I leave you... You don't need a depressed woman here", she noticed, taking her notebook and the pen, to start writing.

"We like your company, don't we, Katniss?", said Peeta, smiling at Effie, but Katniss could swear she saw some kind of mock into his eyes, as if he was just teasing her – and with her, he meant of course Katniss, not the escort.

"Sure we do", gritted the girl, not meaning it all. But it cheered up Effie, so it's been the right move to do.

XxX

Effie leaned forward to kiss Peeta's cheek and he smiled at her, when she did. Katniss was waiting for him inside, since she said her "see you around" to Effie earlier.

"You're both so beautiful together! I always knew you would end up together!", she wiped her tear away as she got too emotional, "I feel so old when I see you both married... You may not realize it, but you're really like my kids now! Sure, I don't mean I'm kind of a mom to you but-" she broke off, when Peeta kissed her cheek back.

"You can be a mom to me, since I don't have one, not anymore. I just don't think Katniss might want you as hers... Am I right, Kat?", he turned to his wife, smiling and she looked at him back, glaring, but she nodded. "But you want her as your aunt, now don't you?", he continued. She raised an eyebrow and opened her mouth, thinking. Sure, she didn't want Effie as her mother, but she could accept her as a kind of an aunt. Katniss knew the woman never truly meant any kind of harm and she could see it how much she loved them both. So she nodded and moved towards Effie, to give her a hug to show her she meant it.

"I do. I still have a mom. She may not be the best and I never forgave her for abandoning me to live in grief alone, but I can't pretend she's dead, which she's not. I like you, Effie, so you can be my aunt. Auntie Effie!", said Katniss, totally serious, lightly smiling. "And it really means a lot to me, what you've done for me in the past. I care about you, even if I don't ever show it. That's why I tell to live your life. Your dream may never come true, so you just have to find a way to go on with your life and your love. I hope you'll find the right man." She smiled and it cheered Effie so much, that she wrapped her in her arms and hugged her tightly, crying of joy.

"You're so good, Katniss. So, so good", she whispered. Then she just pulled Katniss apart and smiled again. "Now I think I must go to the Center to buy myself something to eat. Thank you for answering to my questions!", then she just started going down the stairs, while Peeta called her out.

"Effie! Wait! If you want to do some interviews today, I think you should interview Greasy Sae! She knows everything!", he winked and laughed at what he said; Effie nodded and moved towards the Center, smiling all the time for the conversation she just had.

She glanced around, while she walked on. It was so different here, in District Twelve; it was a beautiful district, calm and warm and everyone knew everyone. There was no doubt that if they had to meet each other, only a little bit of people would not be known by the others and the only reason would be that they would come from some other district or even from the Capitol. The air here was fresh, the bit of wind that was whirling made the air feel perfect. Effie liked it, although she was from the Big City. In the Capitol the air was always a fake, almost and after the Rebellion it was always full of gas from the cars; it was so different, and she liked it more here. It's been a very long time since the last time she's been here so she could see the changes and she didn't mind them at all. They were good, right. In fact some houses were rebuilt in a new, modern way and there were more trees around. Also, she knew from what Peeta and Katniss told her, the fences around the District got ridden off, so now hunting was a good thing to do, but still, not many of the civils did it, because not many of them even knew how. She wrote down on her notebook to remember to ask exactly why would the others not want to live in the Village of Victors, although Peeta and Katniss told her the reason; she didn't believe it was only that and she needed to know more, that was her nature.

The birds were singing some lovely song and Effie listened to it, closing her eyes and relaxing; she has always loved birds but those which were in the Capitol were almost all just fake and she wanted real ones. When for the first time, at age of 21 she arrived here, she loved everything about this place: she loved the way the wind would brush her skin – in that time full of heavy make-up – and which would raise her skirt; she loved the different songs the birds would sing all the time, because she felt more in her place; she loved it that in District Twelve everything was real, and not only birds. In District Twelve people were real, not full of stupid and useless truthfully make-up. People in District Twelve didn't need to make their pain up, because in the moment she read their children name, she could see and feel the real pain they felt. She loved it, because although it made her feel fake, it also made her feel safe; but what she loved most, was the way children played. In the Capitol children weren't allowed to play, not really. They were allowed only to chase some fake probably robotic butterfly and then dress like clowns, just like everyone else. The first time she saw kids playing, running around, not yet aware of the fact they were probably going to die in the Arena soon, she understood that's what she wanted for her children. She didn't want her babies to grow up in a Big City where not even people were real. Her dreams soon were gotten away anyway, since at the age of 30 she still hadn't married and she didn't like it, not a bit. Sure, one of the reasons she didn't get married by then was that she got kept by the Capitol in prison and tortured. Later, once she came back into life, at least quite, many doctors told her there was a probability she could not have children; that upset very much that she even considered quitting with her life, since all she ever wanted – a child – could never be hers. Only after weeks, they asked her if she could forgive them, because they have wronged. The truth was that she could have children, but there was a big chance that she would die during the birth or that she would lose the baby; it was not really reassuring but at least Effie knew that it could happen as much as it could not. Anyway, 3 years after the rebellion ended, 4 years after being captured, Effie wasn't married yet and she felt sad about it.

She started walking again, when she felt the wind whirling stronger and she moved forwards the center, with the smile on her face slowly disappearing. As it was already known, she was very moony. An only, simply thought could change her mood and she would be either happy or sad just in a blink.

The center was a big square, an enormous square with many shops around and then behind them, big houses and even some hotels. She stared at it, her eyes capturing everything going on around her and she nodded, sadly. She nodded at what Katniss told her before. _You're young, Effie, don't waste your life hoping for something that will not happen, not anytime soon, if not ever._ She nodded, because looking around her, she understood this would never be the place she would live in, this would never be the place she would see every day; she didn't belong here and even if she would do one day, if Haymitch asked her to stay, she was fully aware that he would not do that. _Not anytime soon, if not ever._

She caught with a sight a scene she didn't quite like, so she moved quickly forwards Greasy Sae's new restaurant – called simply "Greasy Sae's", cursing herself for wearing such heels.

Effie could be called anything, but anyone could say she was determined. When she saw that drunk man courting a young girl, a girl hardly over the adult, she didn't like it at all and she felt the need to intervene. So she entered the restaurant and she slapped the man, without hesitating. The slap hit him hard and got him by surprise, but once he realized what has happened, he turned to her angrily and he tried to punch her. He wasn't fully aware that was a woman and he didn't quite pay much attention to it, as he was so drunk, that all he cared about, was vengeance for what that stranger has done to him. So he moved towards her, staggering and he punched her, with all the strength he had in him; the answer to that punch, was a kick to the lower parts, by the girl he courted earlier. He fell to the ground groaning, but then he just stood up and ran away, while the girl sat next to Effie, embracing her to make her relax, who, by her way, was not doing any better than the man. She was coughing and swearing and she was pale, her eyes wide open.

"Are you feeling alright?" asked the young lady, smiling reassuringly. There was something else in her eyes, but the ex-escort couldn't bring herself to understand what it was. Effie eyed her, her gaze on the pretty young face, and she smiled, nodding. "I'm Joanne, by the way", said the girl, giving her a hand to stand up. Effie sat on the edge of the chair and she breathed heavily, trying to feel better. The punch has been to the stomach, but she wasn't feeling that bad; sure, it had been even very strong, but all she needed in the moment was to rest.

"Effie", she whispered.

* * *

><p><strong>Hi, everyone with the second chapter!<br>I honestly hope it was in your liking, because I put veru much effort in writing it! And as you see, there's Effie now. And well, since the chapter was getting quite too long, I had to split it off, so as soon as I'll get to write something in the fourth chapter, I'll post the third one, still on Effie's POV. I hope you don't mind it. You know, I thought too many Effie would not please you, I'm truly aware of it, but this is important. All of this, what will happen next, what happens _now_ is so, so, so important for the story, that I needed to write it!  
>Also, another thing... I hope you don't mind me putting some lesbian sex in the next chapter.. it is very, very important, I swear. It will like ruin Effie's future and that's what I meant to do. So please, don't mind it! I just need some drama and angst, and since I'm a person who reads FFs too, I know readers love angst and drama, too.<br>So, here we are! Hope you liked it and knowing what you think about it would be lovely, so please, if you have a few moment, leave a review. It might not take much time and it would mean a whole lot to me!  
>Yours, sincerely, Agni. x<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

_**Sorry for this, but I shall ask your attention and if you don't fancy angst and dark stuff, rape-kind stuff, lesbian stuff... Well, you better do not read this chapter; if you do, then this chapter may be in your liking! Thanks for the attention!**_

* * *

><p><strong><span>Chapter Three<span>**

"Effie", repeated the older woman, closing her eyes to rest a bit. Joanne's eyes wide open and she opened her mouth to speak, shocked by the "revelation". She knew her, obviously; she knew Effie very well since 9 years ago she has had her first Reaping and she has been so terrified, that she has hated Effie more than anything. When she found out Effie has been captured she felt relieved, although she knew she shouldn't have been so. Now, she found herself in front of an Effie Trinket who saved her from a drunk man courting her and who she herself saved from the same man, from killing her. And also, she found herself in front of a stunning Effie Trinket without her stupid heavy make-up and she liked her like that more.

"You've... You've changed", stammered Joanne, not quite sure what else to say. She didn't hate Effie, not anymore, not really, but she still felt unusually afraid of her, as much as attracted. She feared that in a blink Effie would wear her wigs and her amount of make-up again and read her name at the Reaping. Although she started staring at her and she understood she was different, and she tried to think of her as a good person – a good, stunning person, to precise. Effie, by her way, didn't feel really happy to be in front of such a child, but - God damn her! – she got herself into it, so that was all her fault. But still, she didn't like the way Joanne looked at her the moment she whispered her name – as much as she didn't like the way the girl stared at her before, because it was even more preoccupying. More, more, more preoccupying – and she felt unsafe. Well, she felt unsafe when the man punched her, because it reminded her of her imprisonment, but she got herself in it and she didn't break in in front of a young lady, which was real progress. An year ago she would've probably just lay down, cry and be off for a long while, but she has recovered a bit by now.

"Of course I have", she snapped, finally standing on her feet, feeling quite better. "You don't fancy me, do you?", asked Effie, curling her lips while looking at Joanne.

"I don't fancy Capitol citizens after what they've done to all of us and since you're one, I shouldn't fancy you either, but I guess you just made a quite good impression on me, so I just don't fancy you a bit", admitted the girl, lightly smirking, which made Effie feel quite worried. "But I think you saved me from that old drunk, which I appreciate, because I may not fancy you a lot, but I don't fancy going to bed with an old, drunk _man_ more", she winked, patting the table and glancing the chair Effie was sitting on earlier. "I owe you at least a drink, alcohol or just a coffee, that depends on what you like more. And I mean it, when I say you've changed", she added. She gestured with her hand, just like Haymitch did earlier but with more grace, as if she wanted to show something that wasn't there anymore. "You got off those hideous wigs... And that amount of make-up? Finally off! You finally look go- pretty!", she smiled shyly, "I still am afraid you will turn back to your old self, but I must say, looking at you better, you look so different, that I don't think you could hurt me."

"You remind me of Haymitch gesturing that way with your hand and calling my old wigs hideous", she gritted, rolling her eyes; she sat on the chair anyway, looking for her notebook. The girl probably noticed it, because she showed her that the notebook was on the ground next to her. Effie thanked her with a light smile and she took her notebook, uncapping her pen to write down about what just happened to her. After she was done – and she noticed Joanne hasn't said a word while Effie was writing – she looked better at the young girl. She was very pretty, maybe even more than just pretty. She was beautiful. Her eyes were green, unlikely for District Twelve and Effie wondered if she even was from here, and her hair was dark brown, curled. She looked very good and Effie couldn't help, but admit she was a special beauty. Because, truth be told, since Effie was from the Capitol, she could appreciate any kind of beauty. Also, the ex-escort liked very much the way her face was not too skinny but not even fat, she just looked good. When she realized, anyway, that she was staring at her inappropriately, she shook her head and sighed.

"You still didn't tell me if you want a real drink, like alcohol or just coffee", noticed Joanne, smirking. There was something about that girl, that made Effie doubt anything she did. Her smiles were weird; they looked so familiar. _She reminded her of Haymitch_, sighed Effie, realizing it. It wasn't exactly the best thing, since Haymitch was a _man_ and Joanne was a _girl_. She tapped with her little finger on the table and bit her lower lip, thoughtful. "So?", asked the girl, quite not patient.

"Oh, uh. I'd like a coffee, it's just- Oh, my God! It's already 3am?! I thought it was... Oh my God. This is how it ends without my schedules", she cursed herself in her mind, biting her lower lip harder. "_Damn_", she swore, looking around. The young lady raised her eyebrows and Effie gaped, apologizing for her behavior. "God, I'm sorry! It's just... I have work to do and I totally forgot about it. I have to interview someone from the District today, because I already interviewed Peeta and Katniss... Damn it! I can't remember how was called the person Peeta told me to interview...". She was growing increasingly more worried and preoccupied and she only calmed down, when Joanne touched her arm as if she wanted her to relax.

"You can interview me", proposed the girl, winking. "But first, let me buy you something, c'mon!", she begged and Effie finally agreed. She thought the girl was very nice, for sure, if she had been afraid of her only for a while, but she was really weird and Effie didn't like weird. It felt unsafe, unsecure and she didn't fancy that.

"If it's already 3am, I must say, I'll take a cocktail", gave up Effie, staring at the window. She thought what would the kids be doing by now, but then she shook her head, noticing it was bad manners to think about something else during a conversation with a friend. The point was that Joanne was _not_ her friend, but she was acting like one.

"You know, if you want a cocktail, we shall go in my house. They don't do cocktails, here", grinned the young lady and Effie's eyes wide open. She opened her mouth to speak. She wanted to tell the girl she didn't want that cocktail _that_ much, but her words died in her mouth. Now, she was totally worried about what the young girl could do, but she couldn't find the courage to tell her off, so she just sat quiet, nodding, with a knot in her throat. That situation was totally awkward and she wrote down her notebook just three simple words: _There are lesbians_.

"Sure", she muttered her, not quite believing in her own words. All of her doubts came over her head and she started thinking of her imprisonment. She felt just as unsafe as she did by then; the same feeling she had the day she's been captured, exactly. She didn't know what was going on around her nor she didn't know what was going to happen and it didn't feel good, not even a bit. She accepted, sure, but she wasn't sure if that was the right thing to do; all she knew it was that she was so frightened that she could probably just run away; as much as she knew she was determined to prove she was friendly and that she didn't need her old friends to be happy. It wasn't a good decision at all, but seriously, after years of not having at decision, she just wanted to show she could decide on her own what to do and what not to do. If she was doing the right thing, well, that would be proven later.

XxX

Joanne handed her another glass of cocktail which was already the sixth one, but Effie was not in the state to count and she was not fully aware of what was going on around her. The younger woman knew exactly the reason, because it was her who made sure that in Effie's cocktail there would be stronger alcohol than asked. She also added some pills to make Effie feel good and happy, just like she did when she was just a Capitol citizen, and that she would not remember anything at all about this night not anytime soon.

"So, you're telling me that the father of your great grandfather's grandfather was from District 7?!" asked Effie, her voice as high as it was when she was still an escort, a smile on her red face and her crystalline laugh echoing in the beautiful and modern Joanne's sitting room. As said, it was modern: the walls were black with many portraits of unknown people to Effie, somewhere painted with blue and green, but all mostly black; the couch Effie was on was elegant and black, just like the one in front of her on which was sitting Joanne; the carpet was blue, with some white circles; the floor all in wood, a real contrast to anything else around, but it gave the sitting room a classic touch. All in, it was a beautiful house and Effie liked it a whole lot, wondering how it felt living in such place.

"Yes, exactly!", answered Joanne, lightly laughing because of the alcohol. Effie was way more drunk and the younger woman was fully aware of it, since that was exactly what she wished she would be: _damned drunk._

"That's so great... Thank you very much for the interview!", said the ex-escort, still laughing. She didn't even know she was laughing, she just did, it felt so natural, so perfect. Everything there was perfect to her, honestly. Even Joanne didn't look just pretty; she looked sexy, her hips so attractive, her legs so long – Effie wondered how it felt to touch and kiss them; alcohol's fault -, her long hair looked so soft, her smiles so sexy and everything in her was sexy in the moment; Effie wanted to touch her so much, that the next day she would probably die of shame, if she would only remember a bit of her thoughts. Unfortunately, or maybe the contrary, for her, she couldn't remember not even a bit of today; she would remember it probably in many months and that would probably embarrass her so much, that she would just hide and never ever show off again. Because she was from the Capitol, sure, but she wasn't exactly bisexual; she still liked Haymitch and preferred him, although she was mad at him. "I might go back home now", she said anyway. She wasn't thinking clear, but she knew that she needed to be back home or she would get herself in trouble. One of the reasons was probably that she didn't even know what time it was and time should preoccupy her, but all she thought was that she wanted to sleep in _  
>Haymitch's house<em>.

"What, oh, no, no, no, please!", chuckled the younger woman trying to stop her, "Stay a bit longer! It's your turn to talk about yourself!", she tried to convince her. Effie didn't need much time to be convinced, since the alcohol _wanted_ she stayed just where she was and after a while of trying and thinking, she realized she couldn't think, so she just accepted, and settled on the couch, smiling.

"It's not proper to stay here, I must stay, but I can't really think what's proper and what's not. I just think it isn't", she chuckled, without noticing that Joanne has already settled on the couch next to her, touching her thigh without any permission. "You want to know something about me, so, huh?", she asked, laughing at her own words. "I'm a _bitch_. That's how Haymitch used to call me when he was very drunk. I'm also a _slut_; the sponsors I slept with to get something for my tributes called me this way. I hated my job, but as they all say: _Once in the Games, always in the Games_!", she laughed bitterly, her words coming out of her mouth, totally thoughtless. "They used me, they used my body as if it was a toy, and I minded it. I minded it a lot and I wasn't the only one", she took a heavy breath, shivering when Joanne started kissing her upper arm, but she didn't do nothing, still talking. "When Haymitch found out what they were using my body for, he told me to never ever do that again and I didn't. I listened to him, I always did. Not only when he told me to do something; I listened to him also when he just criticized me, because I wanted to know what's wrong with me." She made a sad face.

"One night, it were probably my seventh Games as an escort, I was maybe 27, yeah... Well, that day he wasn't drunk, not a bit. But still, he came over me and happened something very odd. Oh", she moaned when the young one bit her earlobe, and she settled on the couch, feeling unusually wet down. "He, oh, he came over there and he... he started rating me about all those men I slept with and when I asked him why did it bother him so much... He kissed me. That was so odd. That night we slept in his bed. We had _sex_ and having sex with him felt so, ah... Felt so good", she fastened her last words, when she felt Joanne's right hand running down her thigh, touching her so madly good, that Effie couldn't stop but moan of joy.

"Never as much as it will feel after sleeping with me", smirked Joanne, and Effie didn't agree, nor she did deny, so she kissed her, her tongue trying to open Effie's mouth, and she let her. Effie, by her way, touched her waist, trying to get rid of her shirt, with an urging feeling to get rid of all of the clothes there. She wasn't in herself in the moment; the pills Joanne gave her, meant to make her feel good in this moment, and attracted to what they were doing. And she was, she was totally attracted to it and she wanted more. She wanted to taste every bit of Joanne's skin, she wanted to have sex with her and she needed it now.

"I didn't finish the story", she mumbled anyway, between one kiss and another, totally out of the blue. Joanne stopped kissing her, her hand on Effie's back, trying to get rid of her bra and the tension could be totally felt. She looked offended and Effie couldn't understand why. She didn't know Joanne was good at acting nor she did care; all she wanted now was talk and have sex, but that could change in a bit.

"Alright, go on, but let me do my job", gritted the younger one, quite agreeing, which seemed to cheer Effie up. So she let Joanne lay her on her couch down, and kiss her neck, with her hands wandering down, under her skirt.

"So...", she breathed heavily, hardly trying to suppress a groan coming of her mouth, when Joanne stroke her inner thigh, shivering. She felt so good; she couldn't even rate herself about her own behavior. All she did was shiver, moan, talk and let Joanne touch her, where nobody has touched since her imprisonment. "After that one night, we never spoke about it, but... anytime I looked at him, he averted my gaze. We had sex, ah, afterwards, and it had felt so... oh, so good- Joanne!", she screamed, when Joanne started licking her stomach, exciting her even more than she thought. She relaxed for a while, shivering anytime Joanne's tongue touched her belly button, but anyway, she let her do, breathing heavily. Her nails were in the couch, while she tried to go on with the story. "I fell in love him, slowly, but when I realized it, I thought I have loved him for much longer than I knew..."

"Did he love you back?", asked surprisingly sad the girl, her hot breath on Effie's skin, and the ex-escort didn't even think nor blink, before the answer came out of her mouth, so unexpected.

"No", she said, bitterly. Joanne got up and sat quietly next to her, her hand on Effie's cheek, and she kissed her softly. Hot and bitter tears streamed down on her cheeks, and Effie shook her head. Here they were, her sad fuddle. "He didn't love me back. He _doesn't_ love me back", she sobbed, still letting Joanne kiss her lips; but the younger one went down, kissing her neck slowly, her hands stroking her waist. "I don't know if he used me or not", she admitted, sadly. She hated saying those things, but she couldn't help but talk. She didn't want to have sex anymore; all she wanted was to talk and talk, although that wasn't exactly Joanne's plan. "He just... I think he cared about me, yes, a bit... But he didn't love me, no. If he did love me, he would have probably asked to come here with him, to District Twelve. He didn't and here I am, with my delusional one-sided love". She hated herself for saying this and when months later she remembered all this, she cursed herself and Joanne very badly, but for now, there was a new distraction there.

"You can use me", whispered Joanne, kissing her earlobe and getting rid of her bra, finally getting to touch her breasts, "You can use me as your distraction. I don't mind it", she whispered again, and Effie hummed, touching her cheeks, to get to kiss her. "I don't mind it", she repeated it. And so Effie did as asked; at the beginning she just brushed her own lips on Joanne's, but then she deepened the kiss, again letting the younger woman do the job.

During the night, Effie many times told her things she shouldn't say, without realizing that Joanne would use them against her in the future; she thought she was so genuine, but truth be told, she wasn't even a bit. She was a viper, but Effie didn't know it, not just yet.

XxX

Effie woke up the next day, in her own bed, washed and in pajamas, but she couldn't remember how did that happen. All she could remember in the moment was that she interviewed Joanne and then... Nothing. She couldn't remember anything else.

She sat on her bed, the sheets covering her legs, and she looked around, feeling a bit dizzy. Honestly, she wanted to vomit, but she didn't think it was good manners to vomit in a bed that was not even hers. So she tried to stand up, but she fell on the bed again, the urge feeling to vomit became stronger, and she didn't stop herself anymore, retching on the sheets. She shook her head and she knew she needed to retch again, but this time she stood up and she went to the bathroom.

Her head was blowing up, her mind was confused and she couldn't think properly. She just kneeled down in front of the closet and she retched again, feeling a bit dizzy because of the terrible smell. All she wanted in the moment, was to retch everything off and then just relax, maybe even sleep all off and then try and think about how could she get in such situation.

"What the _fuck?!_", she heard someone shouting, and only a while later she realized it was Haymitch. She tried to get on her feet and explain, but first of all she didn't know what did she need to explain; also, she couldn't do it, because her dizziness didn't let her, and she almost fainted, her hands on the toilet. She didn't feel good, not even a bit, and she didn't want to get on a fight with Haymitch, because of something she wasn't even aware of.

He entered the bathroom, raising his eyebrows, and he grinned. He had his hangover too, in the moment, but he was used to it, while Effie was not, not really. "Not feeling quite well, sweetheart?", he teased her, but she didn't answer, retching in the closet again, her face totally pale.

"Go away", she muttered, the headache going through her mind. She wondered how did she get in this state, but she truly couldn't understand it. All she knew it was that she had probably drank a lot earlier, but she didn't know how, when and _where_. It scared the hell out of her not knowing, and she stared at the white wall of the bathroom, thinking.

She felt unsecure, because not knowing reminded her of the terrible and lonely nights in her cell, when she wondered what would happen next. When she wondered what was happening around her, because of course, she wasn't aware of anything. Nobody has told her anything and it was terrible.

And then, she was again in her cell, the Peacekeeper walking to her, and she felt something very sharp cutting her back, and she knew it was starting again. But she didn't scream, of course, she didn't want to give them that. She looked at one of them and she smiled, and then laughed, as if she liked what they were doing to her or she didn't care.

"What are you laughing for, _sweetheart_?", asked one of the Peacekeepers, and she shivered hearing that nickname; she couldn't quite remember who called her that way in the past, but she knew someone did and that she had loved him, probably. It felt odd, but she didn't stop laughing, not even when the Peacekeeper standing behind her punched her hardly on her back, and then made her stand up.

"Your face", she gritted, trying to keep some own dignity, which was quite impossible, since in the moment the second Peacekeeper was ridding off her clothes, still obviously punching and cutting her. "I don't see it", she grinned, not moving even an inch when the man grabbed her from her back and pulled her to him, turning her face to make her see him; it was a trap, because once she was turned to him, the Peacekeeper she's been talking to, came closer to her and he started touching her, in parts she shouldn't be touched. It wasn't just proper. But all she did, was laugh, even giggle, because it made her feel as if she wanted it and not as if she was raped, which she was.

Suddenly, she felt something new, that worried her a bit, because it was so unexpected, that she even closed her eyes. She felt cold water and she shivered, opening her eyes.

"_Effie? Oh, come on, Effie!_", she heard someone whispering. Or maybe he wasn't whispering, she wasn't sure, because all she could see was the Peacekeeper grinning, and she screamed, when he tried to stab her. He didn't, because she kicked him, and then she fell to the ground, still feeling his eyes on hers. "_Effie, wake up!_". This time the voice was clearer, and she shook her head, because she recognized it. It was Peeta but it was impossible that she could hear him, he was being tortured somewhere else.

"_Effie, do you hear me?_". Yes, she heard them, with the confusion growing and growing in her mind. She trying to focus on the voices, because the second voice was surely not Haymitch's. "_Oh, come on! What is wrong with her?_", repeated the same voice, and she understood it was Katniss. But still, she couldn't see her. She screamed again, not even trying to laugh anymore, with the tears streaming down her face. She wrapped her hair, pulling it, trying to make it stop. She was quite sure it was just some new way of torturing her and she truly couldn't find a way to make it stop. She started breathing heavily, then, closing her eyes again, the tears stuck on her face and she sobbed, she begged. And then she scratched her own skin, to feel some pain, because she was so afraid, that she thought that was the only best thing to do.

"_Goddamn it! It's impossible to wake her up! Peeta, Katniss, she's going to die this way!_" screamed someone else, and Effie suddenly recognized Haymitch. She would recognize his voice, but he wasn't here, he couldn't be here; he left her, he couldn't be here. And most precisely, how could he know that she was going to die? Die. _I'm going to die_, she thought and a light smile drew on her face, while she started singing a lullaby. She wanted it and she didn't even notice that the Peacekeepers were long gone. Yes, she wished it.

_Death, oh sweet death. Death was easy to get, an easy thing to give someone. Death was something everybody dreamed of; it could be in the worst nightmares or in the best dreams, but anyway, anyone wished for it, sooner or later. Death was just perfect; the end of a terrible period and the beginning of a new, peaceful one. And everybody, eventually, begged for that end; just not everybody was close to it._

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><p><strong>Hi everybody!<br>Finally I made it and posted the third chapter! I had a few issues around so I couldn't update, but here we are!  
>In this third chapter I hope I haven't disappointed you or spoiled the fun.<br>Anyway, if there's anything you don't like or YOU DO like, please leave a rievew and tell me what you think about it!  
>Also, I've decided I'll be posting every Week-end, so Saturday or Sunday, it will depend on how time can I spend on my pc.<br>So, if you liked or you didn't, whatever, please, review because reviews are love. And I'd love to know what did I do wrong or I did do right.  
>Thanks for the attention!<strong>

Agni x


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Haymitch was shocked. Literally. In a moment he was teasing her, she was telling him to go away, and then she fainted, mumbling some weird stuff. At first, of course, he didn't react, because he had his headache too, and his mind didn't quite understand what was going on. He tried to wake her up, but she just shivered and even screamed, starting to tremble.

He has ran to Peeta and Katniss' house, honestly, only when she didn't wake up, because well, that was unusual. He has not been scared, not really, he just wanted to make sure there wouldn't be a dead in his house. He wouldn't care more about her, now would he? She was just an annoying woman, who retched on his sheets after years of rating him about that, and who fainted in his bathroom. So, it was nothing personal, just making sure nobody dies.

"That annoying woman fainted in my bathroom, during a hangover and now she's mumbling nonsense", he has said, once Peeta has opened the door, and the boy has shaken his head not understanding who he was talking about. "Trinket!", he has explained, gritting, because he was so annoyed about the situation, he couldn't stop himself. It was not something that happened every day, to have a woman losing her senses in his house, and he convinced himself it was all just that. That he didn't care about her, not a bit. After all, they have had sex sometimes, but it didn't mean much to him. He cared about her by then, maybe, but not now. He couldn't think of himself caring, after years of not even ringing to her to check how was she doing. No, he surely didn't care about her.

"Katniss!", has shouted the boy for his wife, and she has come there in a matter of second, raising her eyebrows, not yet aware of what was going on. "Effie fainted in his bathroom probably having a new kind of episode and he's worried", he has cleared up, when he has noticed his wife opening her mouth to speak and ask Haymitch what was he doing there.

"Worried about her, huh?", she has teased him, of course. He hasn't been very pleased by it, but he hasn't complained, not even replied, since his thoughts were at Effie, shaking in his bathroom. He started convincing himself, of course, that if that was someone else, he would be worried too, but he knew that was a lie. "Are we getting old, Haymitch?"

"Oh, well, if you want me to stop worrying, we can do it all. But then do not feel guilty, nor put it all on _me_ when she will die because of you", he has gritted, rolling his eyes. The girl has become serious in a matter of a blink, and she has taken some medications to give her, in case.

"I know you care", she has whispered in his ear, only that he could hear her, and she has grinned so openly, that he has even huffed. "You cannot lie to me, not about this", she has added, when Peeta has been all ready to go.

"_Fuck you_, Katniss", has been his answer, and she hasn't taken it far anymore. He wasn't in the mood of teasing, and Katniss must have noticed it, because she just has shut her mouth quiet and has ran towards his house, to check on Effie right away.

They have entered the room, stared at her, and here they were, kneeling next to her, trying to wake her up, which was not easy at all.

"Peeta, fend me some water! Cold, in a bucket!", shouted Katniss, staring at Effie's red and sweat face, trying not to break up. She knew Effie was fighting a battle inside, but still, she could not think she liked doing what she was doing. She has never been the nurse in the house, it has always been her sister, alongside her mother, but one was already dead, the other was somewhere ignoring Katniss. But the girl knew she could not break in such moment, only because thinking of her sister was painful, so she shook her head, wiping some tears she has accidentally cried out away.

"Is she going to be alright?", asked Peeta, once he was already back, but Katniss didn't reply, so he repeated "Is she going to be alright, Katniss?". She glanced at him, she shrugged and then glanced at Effie back. Haymitch, by his way, was staying apart, his head on the wall, with his fists ready to punch it. He was furious; a woman was going to _die_, in _his_ bathroom, and that woman was not someone casual, but _Effie Trinket_. _How funny_, he thought bitterly, _she used to tell me not to poison myself with alcohol and now she's going to die just when she was having a hangover. She is so stupid, but when I say it nobody believes me... Oh, damn it! She's going to die in my fucking bathroom!_

Haymitch turned to them, just when he heard water splashing on the floor. He raised his eyebrows, but they didn't say a thing. Instead, Peeta started slapping lightly Effie's face "Effie? Oh, come on, Effie!". Both, Katniss and Haymitch held their breath, staring at Effie's wet, shaking body. Still, she didn't wake up, and Haymitch stood up, punching the wall strongly, hurting his knuckles, but he didn't care, not anymore. That _annoying_ woman was _not_ waking up and they couldn't do a thing about it. Well, he hasn't even helped a lot, but still, it felt so terrible to be unhelpful in such a moment. "Effie, wake up!", he heard Peeta shouting, but he didn't turn up to them, afraid he would do something stupid, when he would see Effie again. He could still hear, anyway, Effie's body behind him, while she was trying to defend herself, and sometimes he even heard her mumble something.

"Effie, do you hear me?". Well, this time it was Katniss, and Haymitch, huffing, turned around, to see them and he gasped, when he saw Effie's red-pale skin, her hair all so messed up. So he came closer to her, touching her forehead, not even aware of what he was doing. "Oh, come on! What is wrong with her?", said Katniss, irritated and Haymitch couldn't reply her, but he agreed with her irritation.

Then, the scream went all over the house. It was a loud, terrible, frightening scream. They all snapped their heads at her, their eyes widening open. Haymitch tried to slap her, to wake her from that terrible pain, but all she did was tremble, pull her hair and scream again. Now, they didn't know what to do, seriously. She was shaking, crying, breathing heavily and if that wasn't enough, she started digging her nails into her skin, with blood streaming down her. So they started slapping her more strongly, they tried to pull her hands away from her skin, they wiped her tears away, but all she did, was fight with them. Three people fighting one person and it was not a winning one for them.

"_Goddamn it! _It's impossible to wake her up! Peeta, Katniss, she's going to die this way!", shouted Haymitch, finally, frustrated and they all looked up at him, opening their mouths to deny it, but then, she stopped shaking. Precisely, she stopped shaking and screaming, and crying, but she also seemed to sing some kind of lullaby.

"She truly believes us. Damn you, Haymitch!", swore the boy, finally deciding to go to the hospital. He looked for Katniss, highly aware that Haymitch would not move a finger to help her in the moment, quite shocked about it all.

"Well, fuck _you_, Peeta!", gritted the old man, going off the bathroom to take a bottle of liquor, because he couldn't handle it anymore. He was shocked, overwhelmed and – dammit! – concerned about her. He started considering alcohol poisoning in the moment, but he shook his head sharply, realizing it wasn't the best thing thought. His hangover, though, was long gone by now, but a new way of headache went through his way, since being concerned always gave him a headache.

"Haymitch!", called out for him Katniss and he went to the stairs, only to see them carrying Effie, not really pleased by what they were doing.

"Couldn't just call the doctor to come over here and check on her, could you?", he teased, always finding a good way to joke around, even in such situation. He started tapping his fingers of his left hand on the wall, while with his other hand he touched his dark-blonde, dirty hair. He shuddered feeling how _repulsive_ his hair was, but he immediately shook his head, realizing it was an Effieish thought.

"I can't understand how can you not take _such_ situation seriously", snorted Peeta, definitely worn out by Haymitch's stupid and careless behavior. The only answer he got by the old victor, was a stupid grin on his old, definitely not shaved, face. "Haymitch, just a second earlier you were _so_ worried, that you would make a tree fall, you couldn't even _tease_ and now you act like you don't give a _fuck_ about it. Make up your mind!", rated the boy, finally going downstairs and laying Effie back on the floor, because it was true: carrying her to the hospital would not be possible and calling a doctor was way more easy, but still... He wasn't sure that was the exact thing to do, so he needed a moment to think.

"Pay attention to don't wear yourself out thinking", teased him again Haymitch, and this time the boy didn't stop himself by punching the older man in the face. It reminded very much of the first time they spoke to each other; actually, it was the almost same, because it even almost ended the same way: Peeta with his back on the wall, with a broken nose and Haymitch against the other wall, breathing heavily. "I'm too old for these jokes, boy", breathed out Haymitch, touching his jaw, where the boy has punched him first.

"Peeta, can you call the doctor, please? I talk to him", proposed the girl and Peeta shrugged, agreeing, checking the last time on Haymitch and then on a singing Effie. He went straight to the phone, leaving the two, well _three_, alone.

"Wanna gimme some stupid advice, sweetheart?", he grinned, sitting on the couch, finally getting to drink. He was tired and he wished the doctor would come right away and take Effie away from his house, so he could finally relax.

Katniss smiled lightly, sitting on the stairs, her gaze never leaving Effie's too calm body. "'Guess 'stay alive' would be useless, because we all know that no matter how much effort you put in dying, you don't", she winked, kneeling down next to Effie, to control her pulse; when she heard it, she didn't relax a bit anyway, because she felt it irregular and too slow. The blood in Effie's body was probably boiled for what happened earlier and she widened her eyes, standing up to take a mug and some fresh water for Effie.

He glanced at Effie, checking if Katniss was still going in the kitchen for the water and he murmured, "If you hear me, sweetheart... Last advice: stay alive". She didn't react, it was obvious, but still, Haymitch smirked, drinking from the bottle again, because he realized that was what he always said, to anyone. So, he treated her like she was anyone and that meant he didn't care much. He was pleased by it, because caring meant losing; at least that was what he has learned in his life. All the people he has ever cared about, was already long dead. His mother, his brother, his girlfriend, Chaff, a few friends there and here... All dead. Sure, he also cared about Peeta and Katniss, but that was different, he tried to convince himself. He couldn't care about Effie, because she _was_ already dying and if he would care about her now, he would not bear her death. So, he shook his head, took another sip from the bottle and he waited for Katniss to come and save him from his stupid and sappy thoughts.

She arrived a few minutes later, carrying two mugs, one of coffee and one of water, which made Haymitch raise his eyebrows. "What's that coffee for?", he asked, quite shocked. Katniss shrugged, kneeled next to Effie and curled her lips, lightly smiling when she saw her opening, slowly, her eyes.

"I wasn't sure why, when I made it, but now I think I'll take use of it", she smirked and she stroke Effie's forehead, giving her the water. She was a wretch, barely breathing, tired, her eyes closing again to rest, finally and her chest raising and falling a bit irregularly.

"The Sleeping Beauty finally decided to wake up?", teased Haymitch, standing up and kneeling down next to Katniss, grinning at Effie, who, by her way, didn't feel the need to smile nor take his tease as an actual _joke_.

Just in the moment, Peeta entered the room, not even glancing at them for a while, still thinking about his phone call. "I just called the doctor... Sorry it took so long, but he wasn't answering and I had to wait up a bit", he sighed, still not looking at them; stupid thing, because if only he had actually done that, he would not say what he did. "He said to wait up a minute and if she doesn't 'come back to life', they will have to-" he stopped abruptly only when he finally moved his gaze on them and he saw Effie awake. He gaped, closing his mouth immediately and took a step apart, quite embarrassed.

"Don't worry, Peeta. It's alright", assured him the blonde woman, sighing in relief for finally waking up.

He kneeled down on the other side of her and he embraced her tightly, stroking her hair and pulling her apart only after a few moments. "You gave us such a fright!", he exclaimed, so happy she was alright. Well, she was not exactly alright, but she was already sipping her coffee and she was starting to breathe more regularly.

"It's not easy to fight the demons inside", she admitted, breathing heavily. "And I'm not feeling well anyway. I'm afraid that if I close my eyes again, they will be there, to do what they stopped doing since two years", she sobbed, but she waved a hand in front of her face, shaking it. "Sorry, I'm so sentimental now... Haymitch, by the way", she gazed at him, with an apologizing smile drawn on her face, "I'm sorry for those sheets. I shouldn't have retched on them, it won't happen again, ever. I really lost my attitude when I woke up with that nauseous feeling to just vomit".

"Oh, no need to apologize", he stood up, while saying that and he didn't add anything to that, which probably meant the conversation was done. He knew he would have to talk to her later, but for now, he knew she needed some sleeping pills or whatever, so the doc would come and he didn't like them. He actually didn't like people very much, that was the whole point, but he didn't like doctors even more. They were annoying, they gave you pills, checked on you and always told you to stop doing whatever you liked to do usually.

Once, when he arrived to District Thirteen, he remembered that they sent him in recover, because he was a wretch; he was a wretch and that was caused by constant drinking any kind of alcohol, so he needed time to get to feel better. Of course, soon when they discovered he _was not_ going to feel better, they have left him on his own in his apartment he shared – _surprise!_ – with a doctor. Their hate, their disgust against each other was mutual and Haymitch felt the urge to change his apartment, but of course, that was not possible, not even for _him_.

"Today at work they told me-", started the doctor, but Haymitch ignored him, still staring at the wall without even blinking. That was what he usually did those days; the terrible need to drink again was so urging, that he needed something to do. Unluckily for him, his days were not busy; all he had to do was recover and he was not doing well in that job. He sometimes wondered why did they keep him alive, but then he always shook his head, bitterly realizing it was to test him; if he would survive that, he would survive most of the things they had in plan for him.

"I don't give a _fuck_ about what they told you at work", he snapped, tapping his fingers on his unmade bed, but the doctor didn't react. _Stupid man_, he thought, _he thinks waiting will give him anything. I am sure he thinks I'm just lacking of manners and I'm not willing to do anything, not that I'm not capable of it._

"Haymitch, they told me I have to help you, but I say: why don't you help yourself?", grinned the doctor, gesturing with his hand in front of Haymitch's face. "See, helping a man who panics because alcohol is lacking in his veins, is not _worth_ my time. I'll tell you what you will have to do and you'll do it yourself. Let's hope that will change your attitude." Of course, those words felt like a punch, because _Effie_ was the only one who could rate him about his _attitude_, but he didn't say a thing, highly aware that if he would only mention a little thing of that, the doctor would ask questions and he surely didn't need that. He was highly aware, also, that it wasn't an attitude a doctor was supposed to have, but he didn't care if the man would be fired for his words later.

"Go on", he just mumbled, now starting to literally _eat_ his fingers, trying to suppress his anger, which seemed to boil and boil. He was not angry because of that man talking like Effie, that was nothing. He was angry because he needed alcohol, which was the only machine giving him life; how could he live without it. Effie had nothing to do with that, luckily for him, but still, she crept into his thoughts so often, he even started hearing her voice everywhere, rating him about his terrible, terrible, terrible behavior. But he didn't care; he didn't listen to her, because listening would be dangerous. Listening to someone who's not there with you means you're crazy, or that you care, or both, and he knew none of them represented his actual situation.

"You will walk down the hallway every day, for at least one hour. You will go to eat as asked and you will drink as much water as required. You will start walking off on the air, only when you will feel better. Also", he looked up at the drunkard, "You will take the medicines I will give you every evening. You will not complain."

"Just get me off here as soon as you can", replied Haymitch not pleased by the orders, but at least he was sure it was not something special. Walking, eating, drinking water. That would be his life in the next few days, but the vision of it didn't really give him much fright.

"Oh, and you will shower", added the doctor, grinning. Haymitch didn't like that grin; it was always him grinning to someone, no one was allowed to do what he did. No one.

"Okay", he just said, falling on the sheets to relax a bit. The doctor went out of the room and he turned the lights off, although that was totally not needed.

In the next few weeks he did as required and even if he didn't truly recover, he at least felt better. But still, he hated that doctor and the hate probably remained 'till now, because the only thought of a doctor in his house, made his nauseous. He didn't like nauseous.

So when he heard someone knocking on the door, he didn't even do the kids the favor to go there and open it; instead, he took a bottle of wine and took a long, loud sip, relaxing a bit. He grinned, even, when he realized the job that doctor did for him wasn't useful by now and he took another sip, content.

His happiness vanished when he heard a scream, and he ran towards the sitting room where Effie was supposed to be.

"Haymitch, please... Take that syringe away from me. Please, he's going to sedate me, because he says there might be some problems with my blood, but I swear, I'm fine", pleaded him Effie, leaning against the wall. His look was way too concerned, in the moment, more than usual, but he didn't move a finger to help her. She cried, trying to make him reason, but he knew that this time – and not only this one – she was not right.

"If the doctor says you need it, there must be a reason for it", he gritted, sounding too aggressive, more than he wanted. He huffed, realizing that whatever he did, it was always not exactly what he planned to do.

"But...", sobbed Effie, breaking up just in front of him. Still, he didn't move an inch, glaring at the kids, who shrugged, highly aware that in such moment, Haymitch would just do a better job.

"Doc, do your job. Now. If you say she needs to be sedated, so be it... Just get over all of this as soon as you can!", he instructed him, sitting on the couch, because he was already overwhelmed. It was like all of the stuff going on in the world was on him and he couldn't bear it anymore. He needed another drink, but he left it somewhere he last was.

"You know... I might just give her sleeping pills... Yeah, that would be definitely better", stammered the doctor and Haymitch shrugged, not much caring about that stuff. He only cared about himself, of course. He has ran towards here, of course, because someone was screaming bloody murder, he couldn't just stay there and drink as if nothing was going on in _his_ house. Oh, hasn't he said he didn't want a woman running around his house? Well, well, his wish has not been listened and he could see better now, why would he not want all of _it_.

"Effie, it will be alright", assured her Peeta, standing up to embrace her. Also Katniss stood up, squeezing Effie's hand and Haymitch faked a retch, as if he didn't like that sappy situation.

"Aw, c'mon, Haymitch, don't you fancy a bit of sweet moments too?", asked the girl, smiling and he mouthed an inaudible 'no', which made Effie and Katniss chuckle.

"Um... May I?", interrupted the doctor, feeling a bit like an outsider in the house. Effie nodded, not totally sure, but she made her decision, which was to stay alive, as required. "You must take it now, so you can relax and gain some energies", he noticed, but again, Effie didn't complain anymore.

"It would be _bad attitude_ not to agree with him, wouldn't it?", he teased her, smirking, but she huffed, turning on her heels to the doctor, to take the pills. Katniss, of course, went straight to the kitchen to take her a glass of water to drink on the pills and Haymitch couldn't help but think: _They're acting as if it was their house..._

Soon enough, the doctor went back home, Effie fell asleep and the kids wished him good luck, but he didn't even care to wonder about what. Once they were gone, he went to his bedroom, making up in his mind not to feed the geese today, and he just fell asleep too, strangely without any nightmare. Oh, that was weird, but it didn't worry him. What worried him, was the fact that later he would have to talk to Effie and _that_ was definitely a terrible, worrying thing.

So he fell asleep thinking of the conversation he'd have, not quite even realizing it. 

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><p><strong>So, I'm back with this new chapter!<br>****I honestly hope you liked it and if you could leave me any review, I'd love it! I'd love to hear anything, even if you would like to criticize me!  
>This chapter, I might also say, was one of the most difficult ones, but I still hope I did a good job!<br>I hope you enjoyed it!**

**Agni x**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

He woke up just three hours later, with a grimace drawing on his face, realizing it was not the next day and he'd have to do something. He shook his head, frowning and he stood up, stepping loudly, entirely not paying attention to the fact that maybe Effie would still be asleep.

He hasn't been drunk earlier, not much, so this was his first time he woke up without a hangover, which he found quite amusing. He's been a drunkard for almost three decades already, waking up every day either still drunk or with an annoying hangover, so waking up this way was quite new, but not entirely. He could remember those terrible days when he woke up shaking because they cut him off the alcohol while he was in District Thirteen, but that was different. Back then he woke up sweat, trembling, visions of people he's killed or let die appearing in front of his eyes; today it was different: he woke up tired, yes, but quite fine. This was progress, but he knew that if he'd have to stop drinking, he'd go to a long withdrawal, until they'd make him drink again.

Once he was going down the stairs, Haymitch heard a clatter and he wronged a step, falling down the stairs, ending on the floor; every single part of his body was aching. He gritted, stood up and he felt as if his head was turning.

"God_dammit!_", he shouted, studying his left hip, that hurt most, but he just found a small scratch, so he knew it was nothing to worry about. His head now was aching and this was probably the first time he wasn't drunk when something like this happened. He even wondered how could he miss a step and fall, but that was a mystery he would not get the answer of. Surely, if he'd only spend a moment to better think about it, he'd understand it was because he got distracted by the noise.

And then he heard it again and this time he was also aware from where it was coming; it was from the sitting room, so he looked after his knife, unluckily not finding it right away. He turned his head around, trying to find it and when he finally did, he went straight to the sitting room, gaping when he saw what he saw: in front of his eyes, there was an Effie sleeping on the floor that was just trying to get a right position, because she most likely fell and now couldn't find a good, comforting one.

"Didn't fancy the couch?", teased her Haymitch, smirking, but she didn't react, so he understood the pills she drank earlier were still working; he huffed and he kneeled down, to take her in his arms and lay her on the couch again. Of course, he did none of the above; all he did in the moment, was kneeling and staring at her funny grimace drawing on her face, while she still couldn't relax because of the uncomfortable position. "You will beat me up when you wake up for not settling you on the couch back, but I might say I like you beating me, so we shall stay this way", he winked while saying this and he stood up again, definitely in a better mood.

He could also hear the rain clapping again on the window, but he couldn't care much about it; it was just water for him, as much as sun was just a light ball and as much as Effie was just an annoying woman he used to fuck.

"What am I supposed to do now?", he asked and he touched the glass of his big window totally absent-mindedly. Suddenly, an idea came over his mind and he glanced at Effie, smirking. He went up the stairs to the guests room, where he started searching Effie's notebook. "Got it!", he exclaimed at his little victory, when the notebook was already in his hands and he looked down at the bed, to check if there was _any_ space where to sit; he sat on the edge, opening the notebook and suddenly the smirk – which he has been keeping on his lips without even realizing it – left his face, as he read about the trip she would do to the foreign lands where no one has been in centuries. He gaped a bit, trying to understand better what was she about to do, but all he could see in all of this was _Effie_ going to lands _no one _has been _in so long_, that there could be probably _nothing_ there. Simply, it felt so out of her character, that he wished he hasn't read it right.

Sometimes, he used to wonder what kind of life there would be outside of Panem, but anytime he did, he just took a drink and forgot about it, because he often realized there wouldn't be life outside. It was obvious there wouldn't be anything out there, since if there would be, they would have helped Panem in trouble, wouldn't have they? It would've been the best thing to do, but what if they didn't know about Panem? What if Snow made them think we were all dead? That would make some sense, but anyway, wasn't it suspicious?

"I will sure as hell kill this woman one day for making me overthink stuff", he grunted, shaking his head abruptly and standing up to lay the notebook where he has found it earlier; accidentally, the notebook fell on the ground, opening itself at the page of the interview with Joanne. "Joanne? Who the _fuck_ is she?", he asked, frowning, "Surely a friend she met here. Idiot...". He suddenly widened his eyes open, realizing what he could do. He grinned to himself, because the idea of interviewing someone instead of her was so pleasing, that he literally ran down the stairs, straight to the door. His plans were always malicious and this one was one of them. Even a better one because it would both help and ruin her and that was exactly what Haymitch was trying to get; while helping her, she would think he's changing and she would be nice to him, letting him drink; on the other side, people would mistake them for lovers –Effie stays in _his_ house and he even helps her; perhaps they're seeing each other? – and when Effie would see her reputation falling apart, she'd be mad and she'd leave sooner than decided. Not that he didn't like her in his house rating him, he just didn't want her nagging around for _a month_, because he'd rather be dead, then. It was not even _that_ bad, but it was pretty bad anyway. She was a weird woman and what she's done earlier, assured him he didn't want her around for long; she may still be the stupid ex-escort with her stupid high accent and her killer heels, but she looked different, acted different and she felt different, surely.

Almost three years ago he had found her almost dead in prison, wounded, shaken and her hair has been almost all cut; she looked so tiny, so breakable and he knew he would hurt her however much he tried not to. She was simply ruined, broken and he had closed his eyes trying to fade the pain he shouldn't feel away; he had been afraid she would die, but she did make it through and when he had tried to talk to her, her vacant look rid him off, while he realized she would not forgive him. He had left her behind and she had been wronged – beaten up, scarred, electroshocked and for what he knew, even raped – and it was all his fault. That was enough to drive him crazy, but he had convinced himself he didn't care, although he had tried to talk to her many times, but she has always ignored him. He had given up then and he had become the same drunkard he has been with a little addition to his life: geese.

Now, she has showed up in his house and he knew he would get sick of her soon, so he just had to get rid of her; so he opened the door downstairs, smirking.

Icy air hit him on his face and he had to turn back to the house and take some coat, which was not easy to find; once he did, he looked for a beanie, realizing it was a bit too cold to just go over there and not come back later with a cold. He may was a drunkard who didn't care about nothing but drinking and geese, but the months spent in District Thirteen and the years he has hardly tried to forget of his youth, taught him something about life. He just liked to think he didn't know nothing, because being stupid made you harmless and people would not attack you – you'd rather be the one attacking; people attack intelligent people, but intelligent people most likely fake stupid, so the stupid people who like to attack intelligent, find themselves in front of stupid and then they get dumb and don't attack anymore. Either way, Haymitch knew it was safer to be ignorant than someone who knows anything, so he just made up a scene around himself, but honestly, he was not the way he showed off himself. A broken drunkard, yes, but not clueless, just like everyone probably thought so. And his plan showed it. He had a mind, a working one, actually and he was no dumb; people just liked to think so.

He went out in the garden, glancing at the pen with his geese, but he didn't care to think and feed them. He shrugged because the rain was still clapping and he could already feel his coat wetting. But still, he went on, trying to reach the square as soon as possible, because walking in the rain was not really his favorite thing to do when he was thoughtful. One of the things he was thinking about, was who should he interview; surely, he knew most of the people there, but he was no friend with them and he suddenly realized Effie probably felt the same, only that she didn't even know them. _Well, it will change, surely,_ he thought all of the sudden, while a smirk was drawing on his wet face, _when people will mistake us for lovers._ His idea of people mistaking them for lovers was maybe too pleasing for him, but all he wanted was to get rid of her and he knew that once the news would reach the Capitol, she would get phone-calls from many people and she'd have to get the story clear, so she'd have to get back, surely before the month she spoke about.

It stopped raining, but he didn't notice, finally arriving to the square and then, he truly grinned, because he found his "victim" to interview. A nice man, once even Gale's friend, but now just a simple worker and he has seen him around a few times; enough times to remember his face, but not enough to remember exactly his name.

He reached him, smirked and he already knew it would work clearly as planned.

XxX

"So, you've got a wife, but you don't want children, because you're not rich enough, you say?", asked Haymitch, writing down the question and waiting for an answer with a raised eyebrow. He was quite a good interviewer, but he surely didn't fancy it, so he wanted it to end as soon as possible. Still, he was continuing and this was already the fifth person he was interviewing; he convinced himself it was because he needed Effie off his house as soon as possible, but something made him feel as if he really like Effie's new job. Which was scary as thought, of course.

"I am not rich enough for sure, but that's because they don't give me enough money at work!", complained the man, whose name was Gerard and he was not from District Twelve honestly; he was from District Nine and his weird accent definitely proved it. His wife, by her way, was a beautiful woman from the Seam, called Miriam and Haymitch found himself thinking they didn't actually look well together; such an Effieish thought, he realized quite soon, so he shook his head to get it off his mind. "I work down there; I wake up every day at 5a.m realizing my life sucks! I", he moved his index towards his chest, to show his point, "used to have a nice life back there, but I thought it might change here! I got disappointed! The only good thing for which I am very grateful for, is my wife!".

"I see your point", nodded Haymitch, reaching for the glass of wine he asked earlier for and he sipped, to get clear in his mind, "but it is just stupid!". The man raised his eyebrows surprised and Haymitch smirked, sipping again and when he put down the glass, he wrote down everything on his – well, Effie's – notebook. "You could move back to District Nine if you don't fancy it here. Just as simple as said, man. Honestly, if you really hate it here, just leave us in peace!", he noticed.

"I _would_ move back to District Nine, if I _could_, but they told me someone is in my house now! I can't go there if there's someone living in my place and I don't have enough money to buy a new one, because they don't give me a shit here!", shouted the man, with his face becoming red of anger. Haymitch, though, didn't frighten himself by this behavior and he just snorted, to show Gerard he was in no mood to put on a fight.

He gathered his chill and he let out a long, heavy breath. "Alright, let's get it right: I'll tell Effie to report this to Plutarch and you will get enough money so you'll either go back to District Nine or stop complaining. How does that look?", demanded Haymitch, surely already worn out by all of this. It thrilled him to know more about people and always mention Effie to make them wonder; he did it right now and that was his point. In fact, the man, once Haymitch mentioned her, raised his eyebrows and froze.

"Are you seeing Effie Trinket?", asked Miriam, finally getting to say something, too. She was the first one asking the question out loud, but Haymitch knew, perfectly, that it was itching everyone else as well and that was his plan; his beautiful, malicious plan.

"None of your business", he snapped, to make it sound as a secret and again, it was all just his plan. He was well aware that if he acted this way people would start chatting, asking questions and he wanted it. He knew, also, he couldn't smirk or something in this moment, so he just sipped his wine again finishing what was in the glass and he raised his eyebrows demanding for another bit of alcohol.

The woman huffed, standing up to go to the kitchen and bring him the alcohol, while Gerard finally shook his head and realized what Haymitch said and the way Haymitch acted. They both – Gerard and Miriam, called also the blended ones – were not very much clever, but they had their instinct and it actually told them that Effie and Haymitch might be seeing each other, have an affair – which was of course not true, but they weren't aware of it – or whatever. Whatever was the reason he was helping her, they realized, he might at least like her.

When she was back, she poured Haymitch a drink and the old drunkard smirked, raising his glass to show her a mute gratitude and then he sipped, feeling quite proud of himself. His plan was going on well and he was very glad he had ever started all of this. As much as he couldn't realize, he liked it because – who knew? – maybe Effie would express her gratitude, somehow, too. And it was not like he has planned that too, but now that he thought about it, he wouldn't mind getting to her bed – well, being actually clear, it would still be _his_ bed, since she lived in _his_ house, in _his _guests room – after years of not doing it. He wouldn't admit to himself, but he missed her touch and when he told her "I like you beating me", he meant something _else._ Honestly, he meant both. He liked it when she threw her rage on him because it always most likely ended in bed and quite liked that part of their arguments.

"I might **take** that as for a 'yes, I'm seeing Effie Trinket'", winked the woman, finally settling on the couch and Haymitch raised one eyebrow to show his fake disappointment. Miriam, yet, didn't get off by that eyebrow and she continued, gathering all the courage she had in herself. "I shall say, I'm not shocked. I could've guessed that... I just didn't take you for a man who would let anyone see it", she gaped a bit, thoughtful and the ex-mentor needed to take a sip from his glass to don't burst out laugh. "In love we become so... weird, sometimes, probably", she finally finished and this time Haymitch almost threw all the wine out of his mouth, faking a shock – or maybe even not.

He settled on the couch and he opened his mouth, raising his index to show his point. "I don't _love_ her", he finally said, choking in his wine when he tried to sip again, because of course the woman was not up to give up.

"I'd rather say you do", she pointed. This one was a battle Haymitch was well aware he would not win, because he knew that if a woman was stubborn on something, you could not convince her otherwise about it. Women could be rather unlikely stubborn and he knew that from experience; he didn't want to tell her otherwise for sure, because he was not yet sure what he thought of Effie. He liked to fuck her, that was for sure, but did he want something else?

"No, I don't, but if you say I do, I might", he winked then, but he did it only to stop that woman from an argument. Women loved arguing but he was quite drunk by now, so he couldn't argue, not really.

Later, when he would be already back home, he would wonder how could people be stupid enough to think _he_ loved _her_ and he fainted on his bed, after all that wine he drank in every house e he was quite sure Effie would not be truly pleased by what he's done. Surely, he's helped her, but he's also stolen her note-book, she would not like that.

Rarely, yet, he cared about anyone's opinion; she may was a woman he liked, of course – there was nothing imperfect about that woman when it came to bed; she was not even _that_ bad around, but she surely was annoying and he couldn't be with a woman he found annoying –, but he could not understand why would people think there was anything outside of it. He was too blind to see that you do not think about a woman you just fuck; and you do not have nightmares of her being killed. 

* * *

><p><strong>Hi everyone!<br>****I know I said I would update every week, but I couldn't find time to write the new chapter.  
><strong>**I hope I didn't disappoint and you still will like it (if you ever did)! This chapter was quite difficult to write even if it one of the shortest ones!  
>I'm sorry though if you won't like it: I just finished watching Game of Thrones and I have a confusion in my mind, that's it!<br>**

**Love you,  
>Agni x<strong>


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

_Tired. Pained. Uncomfortable. Head. Hip. Arm._

Effie woke up on the floor, a grimace drawing on her face and all she could think were those words, because her head was blowing up, probably because of the fall. She must have fallen when she was asleep and she was quite sure Haymitch must have noticed it yet he must have ignored it. She knew that would be his usual behavior and she shook her head in disbelief, deluded for his predictability.

She sat leaning against the couch and she breathed heavily, stroking her back to ease the pain she was right now feeling. She was angry, in pain and she was sure she would kick Haymitch's ass when he would be back downstairs. Effie Trinket was not a person who easily forgave and she never forgot for sure; she has been in pain because of her panic attack and still, Haymitch hasn't even tried to help her, no way. She hated him in the moment, as much as she had to admit herself, she loved this behavior. Haymitch has always been a tease, but he was not a bad man, so Effie knew that if he hasn't helped her, it was because he knew she didn't need help and because he wanted some fun.

_Fun_, she thought furiously, frowning, _you call it_. Then she sneezed, before she could even put a hand in front of her nose to ease the "wind" caused by it. _Now I got even a cold_, she admitted to herself, trying to stop another sneeze. The tickling in her nose was annoying and she put a hand on her forehead, feeling it burning. She didn't like the cold and a cold with a fever even less, so she stood up and she walked lazily to the kitchen, to make some hot tea with honey; she couldn't remember when, but it looked like she bought some of it, so tea with honey it was.

When she was little, when she would get a cold or a fever, her mother would give her medicines, pills and they all would work, but she has always wanted to try something new, so when she caught a cold around two years ago, while being Plutarch's co-worker, she didn't actually know how to get herself to feel better, yet she asked around. The person to help her has been Annie, actually, who was, luckily, in the Capitol then; she approached Effie when she heard of her cold and she smiled, giving her a package containing honey and a few other things Effie would have to buy herself.

"It may not be a lot and not the greatest solution, but it helps for the cold and I gave you a list of not really worthy medicines to buy; you wouldn't have enough money for others, I'm afraid", she said, nicely and Effie thanked her with a hug, whispering something that was supposed to be a "you're a real friend, Annie", but the redhead didn't surely hear it anyway. She felt quite offended by the affirmation "you wouldn't have enough money for others", but she didn't react at it, very well aware of the truth hidden behind those words. Effie may have a job, but she was still too poor to buy medicines she used to buy once ago. Anyway, she did as recommended and she felt better after only three days, so she knew how to act like a normal person; she only wasn't really normal, being Capitol, but she stopped calling herself that way since her imprisonment: Capitol raped, beaten up, cut, electro-shocked her, she was not like them nor she would ever become.

She could remember when at the beginning they tried to convince her to do as recommended, work for them, but she never did, so they started their usual torturing, to get some information, which she didn't have. She was very decided not to speak against Haymitch nor anyone else, but one of the reasons was also because she _couldn't_, not that she _wouldn't_ if she could have. Surely, she would not betray her friends, but she has never been that kind of person to defend someone else's ass and sacrifice herself: yet she did, because what they've done to her, made her want to do anything against the Capitol and if not telling them anything she would know, would be being against them, she would try that.

She poured tea in a cup and took two spoons of honey, since she knew that would help. She didn't have the medications Annie once told her to use, but she assumed she would survive such childish cold and fever; sleeping on a cold floor without any heater, in autumn, was not really the best thing to do and she would not recommend that to anyone at all, not even her worst enemy: lying on the bed with fever does not give you even the right to fight rightfully and she would want her enemies to die with as much glory as she could give them, since she herself would rather die in glory than for fever; Effie has always been that kind of person who believed that the Hunger Games gave you glory and when she found out it wasn't the way she has always thought, she felt very displeased.

Once back in the sitting room, she sat on the couch, settling her legs on it to warm herself much more and she waited for Haymitch's arrival. He arrived, though, only after fifteen minutes and she still was with her cup of tea in both hands. He was half asleep, unhappy with something and he was wearing an awful pajamas, which made Effie chuckle, as she has always remembered Haymitch for that kind of man who'd rather sleep in his underwear, than pajamas. _My Haymitch is getting old_, she chuckled again, against her cup. Then, she froze and she thought again, _Wait, he's here. He deserves no mercy for what he's done to me. He saw me, I'm sure he did and he didn't help._ So she frowned.

Her angry frown was a sign, kind of, that he was in trouble and that was exactly as she planned, honestly. She glared at him, when he just shrugged at her _childish_ behavior and she curled her lips angrily. He glanced back at her, smirking and their favorite game started: each one of them was supposed to look into the other's eyes and either smirk or frown, theirs was the choice, and the one who would stay longer, would win. The was never a price of it though and they have never thought of one, actually. It was a game where, when one would give up, the other one would only _feel_ victorious and would either smirk or grin all day to get on the nerves of the other one. This one was probably Effie's day, because he gave up quite soon, settling on the couch in front of her, glancing at her; she breathed out heavily through her nose and she smiled a victory smile, in their common language, a smirk.

"You saw me", she spat out; they were like children: they never finished the sentence properly nor they ever stopped arguing. Some people would say they argued because they didn't have anything better to do – or they didn't want to do anything better, as well – and it was quite true, actually. In times like these, all they could do was drown their selves in alcohol, work or sleep; not busy times anymore and Haymitch, when she was there as if she asked for an argument, couldn't help but argue. They may have changed though, after the Rebellion and all, but some things remained from their pasts and it was very amusing to see them there, glaring at each other, averting each other's gaze when they would stare at some improper zones. _Adolescents._

"I did. Many times. I see you even right now and I've done it for almost a decade. And I did see others too, actually; that's what I have eyes for", he gesticulated with his hand, showing his eyes and winking, to show her his point wasn't actually to be taken seriously. Effie snorted, shaking her head in disbelief, really annoyed by his behavior: he was a child, _her_ child, but you don't fuck a _child_ without being called _pedophile_, so actually her point was unequal too. But all he wanted to do, was not really to get on her nerves all of the time: he just wanted to do his job, which at the moment was to get her away of his house as soon as possible; having women in his house to talk to him about what is right and what is not, to tell him he saw her or he didn't could be really annoying. He didn't need that.

"You know what I mean", she gritted, raising one eyebrow angrily, which made Haymitch smirk again, with an amused light in his eyes. This was getting very amusing to him and amusing was good.

"No, I don't", he admitted glancing at her cup of tea and raising his eyebrows as if he wanted to ask her a question. She curled her lips and stared at her cup too, trying to figure out what to say now. "I'm joking, c'mon. I know what you mean, I did see you on the floor, I even heard you falling and I stared at you, trying to get comfortable but I couldn't help and leave you there. It was way too funny to let it pass by", she glared at him but didn't say anything, probably waiting for him to continue; he did as asked. "You had a funny grimace on your face and I even considered helping you, but then I realized that if I helped you, if I did the right thing... You wouldn't even know you fell. You wouldn't be on my throat and I like it. I like you beating my ass, I think I've told you this many times in our pasts, haven't I?".

She was now fighting a rough battle in her mind and she touched her jaw with one hand – while the other one was trying to keep the cup in – and she glanced at him, finally giving up. She smiled. "You have. But I can't see how would you like me to be on your throat. That isn't even funny!", she noticed, but he grinned, showing off his teeth and he stood up to get himself a bottle of hooch, one of the strongest alcohols ever. _Rough day for him, huh?_, she thought, waiting for him to come back and sit in front of her, to talk. Because the needed it, both.

They haven't truly spoken since the start of the Third Quarter Quell almost four years ago, because they may have spoken, but their talks, weren't real talks, like the one they were both up to have right now. Such talk, in the past, would most likely end in bed, and he surely hoped this time would be no different.

"I think you ought me a talk _and_ an explanation of what happened yesterday. I ought to know what you saw, exactly", he said firmly, trying to be as serious as it was possible when his hair was a mess, his face was red, his eyes were reddish and tired, he was dressed in a funny white-dirty pajamas and he had a bottle of hooch in his hand. This was not really the example of a serious man, but he could be very serious if he wanted to and right now he did.

XxX

"Wait, you mean, like... you really saw yourself in that cell? And you heard our voices and all?", asked Haymitch, trying to understand what had happened, which was very difficult, because he couldn't even imagine to experience such thing and Effie, his annoying escort, had lived it and she had almost died. "How did you manage to be... alive?"

"Oh, don't be so shocked. I've lived worse, this was nothing", she sounded offended, which she was; Haymitch doubted her and that was unlikely familiar, and she hated it. She still felt it as if it was yesterday, when Haymitch has hid the plans of his Rebellion from her and she's been captured and tortured. She knew it was not his fault, not really and she was glad for not knowing nothing at all, but still, it was a betrayal and she felt as if he doubted she could keep her mouth shut; not that she would have kept it, since it was all about her life, but honestly, she couldn't tell now if she would have or wouldn't have – whatever happened, happened and she hadn't told anyone anything, for choice or not, it doesn't matter. "Although I felt like choking. I couldn't catch a breath and I was so scared, I shook, I...", she broke off, starting to sob. "Haymitch, I didn't know what was going on. And then it all started to blur. I was more scared than ever, but when I opened my eyes, I knew it was just an episode and it wasn't real. Haymitch, I was startled, but I opened my eyes and I saw the world, our world and it felt as if I was safe again."

Haymitch's eyes wide open, with a light smirk on his lips, while he tried to understand what Effie has just told him. "Yeah, well, that's' shitty", he noticed and Effie couldn't help but smile. She loved it when he commented such situation with such simple words, not even trying to make anyone smile, but still doing it. Well, she loved his light smirks, the malicious light in his eyes when he joked, his proudness that could be felt far from him... She loved him whole, actually, but she surely would not admit it to him; her anger was long way gone and now she felt just annoyed by the fact he was so cute, so lovely, but in the meantime he looked as if he was planning on to do something.

As an answer to her thoughts, she sneezed, remembering it was his fault.

"It is", she agreed, standing up to go to the kitchen and wash her cup of tea, considering their talk over.

She didn't go back to him after she washed it, and she decided to go upstairs and check on her notebook, to see if there was any chance to continue her interviews today, although she still felt like shit and the cold was still hitting on her; she honestly just wanted to know how many interviews did she do the day she could remember nothing of. So she started wandering around the guests room but she could not find her notebook, which should be worrying, but she was very well aware of who had taken possess of it.

"Haymitch! Go up here RIGHT NOW if you ever want to see your hands on their right place again!", she shouted, her voice so high, so Capitol. Because of course she had gotten off her accent, but it still came back when she was angry or when she wanted to shout. It was annoying at the top, but she couldn't stop it.

Once upon a time where she would talk with her annoying, stupid accent and she would smile, laugh, but it would all be fake and she couldn't remind herself anymore how it felt to do it. She couldn't remind how it was to be fake. Because now, she wall all, but not fake. Her face, her bare skin, her scars – some you couldn't even see anymore, and those who you could actually see, were under clothes -, her hair, her eyes – always so scared, so frightened that it would all come back, but also so determined to do whatever was needed to survive – and even her clothes were more normal, making her less fake. Now she was almost not herself anymore; she could see it in Haymitch's eyes how much he found it weird but she couldn't help it: she's been mad for a long time and when she tried to come back to her old self, she became a bitter woman who works and panics. Her accent appeared so less than before, that it almost felt as if it belonged to someone else – and it did; she was, once ago, a woman who was very, very stupid with stupid dreams, but life had turned on cruel.

"Milady", he joked, startling her away from her thoughts and she looked up at him angrily, ignoring his cute smirk. "May I ask why such anger?", he winked, but she didn't let her mask go off, still being serious.

"Where is my notebook?", she asked, without even blinking and he shrugged as if he didn't care – he thought she couldn't see his worried look in his eyes and his light frown. _He's done something. I KNEW IT!_, she thought.

"Let me explain...", he started, but she raised her hand, stopping him; she shook her head, her glare on him and he gulped, trying to keep his smirk away from his lips: his plan was working – not exactly as planned, but still – so he wanted to smirk right away.

"No, don't. I don't want any explanation. You read my notebook. It was my privacy. And I'm not angry. I'm furious", she gritted, trying not to break. He knew about her trip to the lands no one has ever been in now; he knew about it and he acted as if he didn't. She didn't actually even care about her notebook, nor privacy: she cared about her trip which was private and she didn't want him, ever, to know.

"Sweetheart, I didn't try to-", he tried again, but she turned her back to him and she looked down on her bed, trying to suppress her tears. He knew.

"Don't call me sweetheart. And don't deny it! You wanted to know my secrets, you did!", she screamed, her voice again so high, so annoying. She turned back to him and she looked up at him, frowning. "You give me my notebook back, now", she ordered then.

Now it was his turn to frown. He would do it under begging and all, but he didn't like being ordered to do anything. "What if I don't? Will you kill me or shout at me until I get deaf?", he asked, finally getting to smirk; he stepped closer to her and she didn't move an inch, with her gaze still on him, her eyes on his.

"No", she admitted. She stepped closer to him too, so that there was almost no space whatsoever between them and she took a heavy breath, before trying to reason again. She wanted to know the reason he did this, but not a real explanation. Just a word, or two; she was tired of arguing and she's been there only three days. But much could happen in three days, life had taught her that. "Tell me why did you do that. Just one sentence", she commanded.

"Because I wanted to help you", he lied, and she was very aware that it was a lie, but she smiled as if she believed him and she closed their distance by crushing her lips on his, letting him embrace her to deepen the kiss. Although they hadn't kissed in a very long while, it was still a furious, passionate kiss just like the ones they used to get years ago. Surely, once upon a time when she would continue and have a frenetic sex, but it was not what Haymitch would get – though he didn't know it and he almost thought he really got what he wanted.

She broke the kiss, just when Haymitch's hands started wandering where they shouldn't and she grinned, stepping aside and turning her back to him, to go to the bathroom and get a morning shower.

"What the _fuck _is supposed to be this?!", he shouted after her and she turned to him, sending him a kiss; in her eyes you could see a malicious light, but Haymitch was too shocked to see it: all he could see was his chance flowing away and he couldn't help but feel rejected. "Are you going to the bathroom?", he asked and she nodded, winking.

"I am", she said after and he raised his hand in a pleading way, sending her cute glances, but she didn't break up at this, showing him who commanded there; a sneeze showed her point very amusingly.

"Is this an invitation?", he demanded hopefully, but she shook her head and turned her back to him again, going to the bathroom; before he could take another step, she closed the door and he snorted angrily. "Fuck you, Trinket! You wanted this! I will never give you back your notebook!", he threatened her, hoping she'd come back and continue what she had started, but all he could hear, was her getting off her clothes and he couldn't help his excitation grow.

"You won't get what you want after what you've done!", she shouted back at him, stepping into the shower, noticing with much pleasure that he has started to knock on the door. He was excited and that meant she got what _she_ wanted. 1 point for Effie Trinket. Revenge almost done. "Oh, and you better give me back my notebook or I told you: you won't have your hands at the right place anymore if I don't get it back!", she promised, and she turned the hot water on and taking some soap to wash herself: in Haymitch's house there was not good choice of soap so she chose the first one she saw, with great displeasure drawing on her face.

"Are you threatening me, sweetheart?", he pointed, but she shrugged, without responding; she noticed only a while later he couldn't actually see her shrug, but she couldn't care any less. "Oh, really? Alright, I give you the notebook back, but you'll let me _help_ you again, do we have a deal?", he pleaded, as if it was a very important thing to him to help her and she found it very suspicious; yet, she agreed with a single "okay", and he finally stepped out of the hall, stopping his stupid knocking.

When she went out of the shower, she noticed she didn't bring any new clothes with her, so she "wore" a blanket around her body and she stepped out of the room to take some nice dress. She arrived to the room and she noticed with great pleasure her notebook on her bed and she couldn't help but smirk. She won.

She locked her victory with a sneeze, again feeling her head aching.

_What do we do to those who hurt us or the ones we love?  
><em>

* * *

><p><strong>Well hello, hello!<br>**

**I'm back with a new chapter which I hope you liked. There might some confusion in it, but I hope anyway it is in your liking.  
>I must admit, anyway, that I find it easier to write Haymitch's "POV", than Effie's, but I tried to make it good anyway...<br>**

**Love you,  
>Agni x<strong>


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Haymitch was shocked and angry at the same time; he couldn't understand what had just happened, but he knew Effie had just kissed him to excite him and then she... What exactly did she do? She grounded him would be a perfect explanation, but he didn't like the expression, so he just shook his head angrily, settling on the couch in his favorite room: the sitting room, with a bottle of hooch. He liked it, because it was strong and it helped a lot to clear his mind. And that's what he drank for, though.

He's always been a drunk, Haymitch knew it, although there had been a time he hadn't drunk anything and that was probably the only time in his life, Haymitch remembered so clearly, that he'd rather remember nothing of it. But he remembered everything probably because he was supposed to tell his story to someone, as if it was a fairy tale . Only that it didn't have even a little thing of it.

He smiled to himself, imagining him and a woman – she looked like Effie, but he couldn't tell exactly, because his thoughts were only concerned about the story – telling their children a fairy tale and it would actually be about him. It was a nice thought, so much not Haymitch-ish, but this time hooch reacted this way on him and he didn't mind it; he has always liked fairy tales, like the ones his mother told him when he was little.

They all always started with: _Once upon a time, in a beautiful kingdom far away lived..._ But if he'd tell his own story, it would have a quite different beginning. Not that it wouldn't start with "Once upon a time", but it would surely not talk about a beautiful kingdom far away – that was not his story. His story was about a place he still lived in – he hasn't moved on in his life, honestly – and...

XxX

_"__Daddy, can you tell me a story?", pleaded a little girl – a girl with grey eyes and blonde hair, a tiny cute nose and an almost toothless smile. She was smiling, trying to sit on his lap. He looked down at her and he reached for her with his hands, to let her sit on his lap; she was now smirking, a glorious light in her eyes. _

_"__Alright, what about?", he asked, stroking the girl's hair, smiling sadly. Haymitch from the outside couldn't tell why he was sad, but the Haymitch from the dream-vision was definitely sad for something, yet he wouldn't tell._

_"__About a hero... I want a fairytale, daddy", she proposed and her father nodded, staring at her as if she was not real. He looked so old, older than the normal Haymitch, and he looked surely destroyed by life. The-Real-Haymitch wasn't sure if he wanted to end up like this, but he was sure that he would never have children, so this was all stupid and fake, just a fruit of his imagination. Sadistic, for sure, but just imagination._

_"__Alright...", he whispered, kissing the girl's forehead, "Once upon a time, in a terrible place called Panem-"._

_"__But daddy, that's the place you were born!", exclaimed the girl and her dad nodded. This surely shocked The-Real-Haymitch, since if the Haymitch from the vision talked about Panem as a place long way from his actual home, where did he life?_

_"__Don't interrupt me, Cat", he rated her, and The-Real-Haymitch raised his eyebrows for that name. It was his mother's name and if that little girl was called Catelyn, it meant Haymitch has called her this way because of his mother... It was confusing, for sure, and he didn't want to concern himself about it. Now Haymitch knew perfectly why he was so sad: he has given her his mother's name, of course he was sad. "Now I have to start again!", he mused._

_"__She won't mind, I'm sure", interrupted a beautiful woman. She had blonde hair, blue eyes and she was breathtakingly perfect. She looked just like the little girl, just a bit older and her eyes, well, were probably even more beautiful than the girl's. The-Real-Haymitch knew who it was: Effie. That was surely not what he'd imagine of his life, but well, in this dream-vision he was married to Effie and he had a little girl called Catelyn, just like his mother._

_"__I want to hear the story too, daddy!", screamed a little boy, maybe three years old, running towards his father's coach. The-Real-Haymitch made a shocked face, confusion drawing on his face and he couldn't tell now how did he get himself to do such thing. Married, with two children. Just wonderful._

_"__Then you shall sit on your mother's lap!", he winked to his wife before she could complain and she sat on the other couch, taking her son from the floor, to make him sit on her lap. She smiled sweetly at her husband, with a teasing look in her eyes. "Now I can start... Once upon a time, in a terrible place called Panem-"_

_"__Panem? Seriously? Are you telling them your story?!", interrupted Effie, and she burst out laugh._

_"__Shut up, sweetheart", he snorted. "Once upon a time, in a terrible place called Panem-", he looked around assuring himself nobody was going to interrupt, but it seemed this time he could talk. The-Real-Haymitch nodded in amusement. "-There was a poor family. They lived in District Twelve and they barely had money to buy themselves some bread. Things got more complicated, eventually, when the woman got pregnant; it was dangerous to have a child in those times, but the woman wouldn't concern herself about abortion, so, being from the Seam and living there, she decided that they could survive this._

_The baby was born in winter and they called him... Eh... Well, Haymitch." Silence. The-Real-Haymitch couldn't help but burst out laugh. "It was a tough boy and he had a fighter's soul. His parents almost forgot in which times they lived, so big was their happiness. It didn't last long, though, since just after the boy's brother's birth, the father died which saddened the mother very much. But she didn't break up, knowing she couldn't. Her family was more important than her grief. 'Family and honor before us' was her motto and it worked out well, raising two tough young boys._

_At his sixteenth birthday Haymitch didn't celebrate it though. It was the day of the Reaping-"_

_"__Daddy, what's a Reaping Day?", asked Catelyn and the Haymitch from the vision huffed, just like The-Real-Haymitch did._

_"__It is the day bad people, escorts-", started her father, but his wife slapped his arm, snorting. "Alright. It was a day when stupid women- better?", he asked directing to his wife, but she only huffed, ignoring him, so he took it as a 'yes'. "When stupid women read children's names to go to a terrible place, the Arena, where... they did bad things. Anyway, back to the story..._

_It was the Reaping Day and this time the tributes were twice the normal number: four tributes for Each District. And Haymitch got reaped and it all happened fast then; he ended up in the Capitol when he got trained but he didn't care about training: he was cunning, well, at least he thought so, and during the interviews he didn't care about giving the Capitol citizens a good impression: he hated them! All of them._

_In the Arena he did very bad things I shouldn't tell you because of your ago and-", he broke off, breathing heavily. He was surely sad about the story, but he continued. The-Real-Haymitch admired his courage and he really was impressed that he hadn't broken off earlier. The story was hard to tell and painful for sure and The-Real-Haymitch knew perfectly what The-Haymitch-From-The-Dream would say. "-He won those... Games. But when he came back, there was no family to wait for him. He was alone and after the victory tour he... drank himself until-"._

_"__Seriously, Haymitch, you won't say now: 'until Effie came', because it has a double sense and it is ridiculous because you stopped drinking only when I was pregnant with Cat and you drank a bit when I was pregnant with Rick, so seriously, don't", rated him his wife and The-Real-Haymitch eyes widened hearing the boy's name: it was his brother's; this way, The-Real-Haymitch was quite sure that his life must be quite fucked up in this dream._

_"__Alright... So-", the voice started fading and The-Real-Haymitch felt like shaking, but he couldn't understand why. It was suspicious, all of it, but he couldn't do nothing to help it._

_"__Wake up!", shouted Effie and he snorted, realizing it was his annoying wife-... the annoying woman who was up to be in his house for some amount of time._

_"__But I want to... I want…"_

XxX

"...To know what I'll say next!", murmured Haymitch, suddenly opening his eyes, only to realize that he's back in real life. He scratched his forehead thoughtfully and he decided not to talk about the dream. He knew that he probably has talked in his dream, which meant that Effie would ask questions, but he would ignore her, he decided. "Why did you wake me up?!", he asked angrily, turning around, annoyed. He had a plan that he would not tell Effie, but this didn't mean that he liked it being woken up during a great dream; she'd rather have an explanation or he'd kick her off his house.

"You drool in your sleep", commented Effie firmly, with her hands on her hips, a frown on her face and a light of amusement mixed with worry in her eyes; all that meant actually nothing to Haymitch, but he could see now that she at least a good reason to wake him up from his beautiful – and weird, that was it – dream.

"Is that the only reason you woke me up for?", he lamented, settling on the couch and noticing that the hooch that's been remaining in the bottle he's been keeping earlier was splashed on the floor, alongside with some pieces of the bottle itself.

"No...", she whispered, "You might want to see that...", she added and she moved towards the door without even letting him think. _Bad manners, that's it_, he thought rating himself immediately for acting so Effishly. He stood up, shaking his head in disbelief how that woman had changed him in three days, and he walked after her, to see what was going on.

He'd rather hadn't have, because just in the moment he stood up of the door and he heard the smell of blood, he knew something was wrong; the wrong thing appeared just in front of him and it was a big drawing which represented two of his geese dead – literally, they used _two of his geese_ for it – and a written: "Two must die to please the Capitol", which made Haymitch shiver, widening his eyes shocked and disgusted. He had a mere idea of why would they do that and it probably involved Effie, but seriously?! She's been here three days and they only reacted now?!

The moment he looked up at Effie, he realized it why: he had yesterday made people think they were in a relationship so they needed to break them both. He didn't know now how to react now if he should somehow help Effie get through this, but he was sure it was not an easy thing this one and he shouldn't let it pass by only to make it happen again the next day.

"Haymitch, I-", she started, pleading him with her blue, special eyes to help her, "It is my fault", she sobbed and before he could even blink, he saw a tear falling down her cheek, while she tried hard not to have a new panic attack. He realized it soon enough at least, to let her come in and go to the kitchen with her.

"It is not. People are freaking out, but hey", he moved his hand in front of her eyes, "Don't worry. It will stop eventually. I don't have enough geese for all your staying so you know, they won't work for long…", he noticed and she nodded, agreeing, still quite sad.

"I know you think I'm weak and I won't get through this", she raised her hand when he opened his mouth to protest, as if she knew what he wanted to say, "And you're probably right". He frowned, not quite understanding her. "I'll have nightmares, I'll wake up screaming at night, but I'll be fine. You can be sure of that."

"I never said you wouldn't get through it", he finally said, but she shook her head angrily, glaring at him. That woman was driving him crazy and crazy didn't always mean _good._ Actually, crazy could mean _mad_, and mad meant _stupid_ or way too intelligent, so... No, he didn't like being driven crazy, but she always has done it to him, so it was probably already a thing she did without even thinking of it. _Poor woman_, he thought, realizing his thought was quite stupid, because he was kind of poor too in that way. Well, she was confusing him now.

"But you thought so", she noted and he opened his mouth to speak again, but she didn't let him, frowning. _Great, I can't even say my line,_ he snorted in his mind, but she couldn't hear him, so she didn't react. Fair enough, though. "Alright, Haymitch, we need to talk about this. Did you do something yesterday, when you took my notebook?", she asked and he felt like choking.

"I- did", he admitted and she slapped before he could even close his mouth properly. She stood up and he did too, glaring at her angrily; her look anyway was way more dangerous and he could feel it burning on him, but he couldn't do nothing to stop it.

"Why?! What did you do, exactly?!", she exclaimed, shaking her head furiously and he touched her upper arm to try and calm her, but it didn't work.

"Because... I told you, I wanted to help", he lied again but this time it didn't even feel as a lie, as if he convinced himself that it was the truth.

"That's not the answer!", she protested, but he didn't answer her, staring at her pleadingly and she relaxed a bit, but it only made her cry again and he felt like shit, probably for the first time in his life really; he had hurt her, somehow, but he couldn't tell how and he couldn't tell why he cared either.

"Effie, just listen. I wanted to help you because you couldn't do it and I thought it would be fun and-" _I thought it could get you away from here quicker,_ he added in his mind. "I know it was a shitty move but-" He didn't finish his sentence because Effie's lips were already on his, the second time this day and this time she tangled her arms around his neck, not even bothering to keep some distance. He replied to the kiss, of course and he wandered with his hands, this time slowly – not like he did before that she escaped – down, to let her cross her legs around his hips. "Effie, why-", he tried to ask anyway, while he made his way down unbuttoning her weird skirt, but the only answer was a furious kiss and he couldn't help but reply.

"Don't bother to try and make me stay better. _This_ can make me feel better for sure", she mumbled against his lips, unbuttoning his shirt and taking it off frenetically, trying to be as fast as she could. _She must have missed me_, he thought smirking in his mind, but he had to admit himself, that he missed her too and to prove it, he started kissing her neck, while her skirt was already gone and he was bothering now to get her probably stunning shirt off her. "And-", she moaned against his skin, "That was very provocative.", she added, trying to get rid of his pants, while he worked out with her stupid bra, with his mouth and tongue now on her chest. "The thing about the notebook", she explained and she said nothing more, because he finally got off her bra, starting to suck her nipples, which made her groan; that made them both also fall, which could not be explained to him why, but they did fall on the floor and he felt like choking.

He has fallen on the ground/floor many times in his life, but it never happened with a woman on him and it was quite embarrassing, when he had to move her off and stroke his back; it didn't work out well and he found himself impressed when Effie started stroking his back too, trying to ease his pain. It was weird, amusing and nice all in one, but he couldn't get away the burning feeling that _this_ shouldn't be happening, that she shouldn't do it. She shouldn't be this nice to him. She should take her clothes and leave him alone there, in his pain, but none of this happened. She just massaged his back, with only her slips on, which made him blush and he mumbled some nonsense; but this, at least, made her look for her bra, so she wouldn't be _that_ naked.

Looking at her better, Haymitch realized it, probably for the first time really, how the war has scarred her, not only psychologically, but also physically. He saw now, on her body: all those white and white reddish scars... They were not very nice and they showed it how much she had been hurt; this angered him, because he felt as if he had failed to protect her, which he had, actually. He had failed her and that was why he could see all of those scars on her legs, her neck, her belly, her arms, her back and now that he looked at her without make-up – she maybe wasn't using it as much as she used to, but still, it hid her scars anyway – he could notice some small – but relevant and not only white – scars. He felt as if the pain in his back only grew bigger and bigger at each thought of Effie being tortured, raped, beaten up.

"I'm sorry", he whispered, but he was sure she heard him, because she stopped massaging him and she crawled to be in front of him and she took his face in her hands, glancing straight into his eyes, which made him shiver. Her eyes were so blue, so perfect and he couldn't help but stare into them, while all of his thoughts faded away.

"Don't say you're sorry, Haymitch", she pleaded him, "Not when you are not. I know you don't mean it, so don't say it", she noted. "I'm not helping because you wanted to help me – which I doubt highly –, but because I've always had a weak point for you. And you always knew, and you used it. I kissed you and almost fucked you twice today, because I wanted you to feel the pain I always felt. _I_ made us fall, because I wanted you to feel the pain, but when I found you there, on the ground, I felt like a monster, and my weak point for you showed itself, helping you. So don't say you're sorry, nor I will say now I'm sorry. Just _let it end_", she spoke marking her last sentence, but Haymitch wasn't sure why would she do it. He still was quite lost in her eyes and when she left his face and she turned her back to him, he was still in a shock; he reacted only when she stood up, getting dressed and he didn't find the strength to tell her to stay.

She made her way to the kitchen door, but he finally got up and he stopped her, "What should we end, exactly?", he asked. She turned her head to him and she smiled sadly.

"_This._ Let's forget. Everything that _ever_ happened between us. I got my revenge, you got yours years ago. You wanted to avenge all the children that died because I reaped them and you fucked me, letting me fall in love with you. It ached, more and more and I grew very irrelevant without you. I still acted, yes, but I needed you, while you didn't need me. So I got my revenge. And not only for that stupid couch; I got my revenge for everything, Haymitch. Don't try to deny it. You have always hated me and now you can hate me even more", she explained, but he felt as if she didn't explain him a thing. He was confused and he felt like shit, hearing those words, but he could see the truth in it. He _has_ always used her, like a toy you could use whenever you felt like it, but he has never bothered to wonder how did _she_ feel.

"Are you breaking with me?", he noticed, but she burst out laugh; _What does she find funny in all of this?_, he thought bitterly.

"I cannot break with you", she marked, which made him raise an eyebrow, before he could realize what she meant. "I cannot break up with you because we've never been a real thing.", she added and she turned her back to him again, walking off the kitchen.

"So I can't help you with your interviews stuff, I guess?", he shouted after her and the only answer he got was a simple "no", which was not the answer he wanted to get.

All those years he had used her and now that he felt it on his own skin, he couldn't help but feel as if he was the worst person in this world; that was probably even true, anyway. His heart ache, but he didn't know exactly why. After all, she had given it all an end and he should be proud; he wasn't and that was unusual. He didn't like to _feel_. Feeling was dangerous. He couldn't have feeling for _her_, nor for _anyone else._

Then why did he feel as if someone had told him he has always been dead?

_There is evil in this world, and it is me_, he thought. 

* * *

><p><strong>Hi, everyone!<strong>

**I'm back with this new, seventh chapter, after two weeks of not updating! I feel sorry for not doing so, but I was SO busy. I'm afraid I'll update each two weeks.. I hope.  
><strong>**Anyway, I was saddened noticing no one has reviewed my last two chapters; I do not dare say I'm forcing you to review, but you know, I put much effort in writing this FanFic and I would be very happy if I would recieve any compensation, you know... I think any author on here, _anywhere_, would agree with me.  
><strong>**With this said, I don't mean to force you, but if any of you could review, I'd love it!**

**Thank you for your attention,  
>Agni x<strong>


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